


Life Is Short

by Tori_Scribbles



Series: Living [4]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Amputee!Darcy, Anxiety, Avengers Family, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon-Typical Violence, Chronic Illness, Clint is like Darcy's big brother, Deaf Clint Barton, EDS | Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Everybody Lives, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/M, Flashbacks, I think everybody gets a hug, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Multi, Other, Pansexual Darcy Lewis, Physical Disability, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic bed sharing, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Women Being Awesome, everybody needs a hug, nobody is straight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-22 14:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 54,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8289299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tori_Scribbles/pseuds/Tori_Scribbles
Summary: In the limited light it looked as if we were in an old abandoned apartment, I could still hear the familiar roar of the New York traffic, so we were still in the city. There was no furniture in the room, the only way you could tell it was inhabited was a single black rucksack, four stacked notebooks, a large array of guns, knives and…Holy shit is that a grenade?! .Darcy's story as she acquires an ex? brainwashed assassin, and how he fits into her already crazy life.





	1. Steve's Girl. Steve's Fella.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3, maybe the last of the series (if it's the last then it's going to be very long.)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cold and feeling generally shitty so have this a couple of days early!  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Kidnapping ish. Darcy's been drugged. Trust Issues.

I woke with a slightly pained breath but kept my eyes firmly shut.

_This wasn’t my bed… Why did my leg feel weird? Why does my head hurt? Where am I?!_

My mind flashed back to the men in the street.

I was drugged.

I thought I saw… No, I must have imagined it.

The floor I was lying on was cool and hard like concrete.

I was getting way too much feedback from my leg so running was not an option.

_Of all the days to go without a backup weapon._

_This could be a cell or a basement?_

Panic rose in my chest, but I tried to keep my breathing as steady as possible.

_Someone could be in the room with you…_

“I know you’re awake,” A gravely male voice said lowly. His voice was rough, as if from lack of use.

_Shit!_

Summoning every ounce of courage I had left I opened my eyes, blinking several times as they adjusted to the low light, without sitting up I scanned the room slowly.

In the limited light it looked as if we were in an old abandoned apartment, I could still hear the familiar roar of the New York traffic, so we were still in the city. There was no furniture in the room, the only way you could tell it was inhabited was a single black rucksack, four stacked notebooks, a large array of guns, knives and…

_Holy shit is that a grenade?!_

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He said and despite the situation I scoffed.

“I’ve heard that before,” I mumbled bitterly, my mind automatically flashing back to my father.

 _Jesus Darcy, not the time!_ I mentally scolded myself.

I finally turned to face my captor and stopped short, my eyes widening in disbelief.

“Oh fuck, this is not happening!”

His hair hung just below his shoulders and he looked pretty rough, dirty and unshaven. And despite the current heatwave he still looked cold with his two shirts, a jumper and a thick looking jacket.

He was alive though and he looked healthy.

His left arm hung loosely at his side, his metal fingers ghosting over my Beretta which sat on the floor next to his crossed legs.

It was actually him.

After months of searching, months of following the dead ended trail of destroyed Hydra bases, months of watching Steve wallow in guilt. Bucky Freaking Barnes abducted me and was sitting right there in front of me.

I bit my lip, swallowing the hundreds of questions I had, wincing slightly at my dry throat, trying to focus on what was important right now.

“I’m not _him_ right now,” He said gruffly, as if trying to reassure me.

_Him?_

“The Soldier?” I clarified. He nodded slightly, as if unsure of his answer. “You’re different people?”

“I don’t quite – I don’t – It’s –”

“It’s okay.” He was struggling to find the right words but couldn’t seem to find them and was becoming pretty agitated, so I hastily cut him off. “Two minds, one body… I can work with that, I’ve seen worse.” I tried to give him a soft reassuring smile but I’m pretty sure it came across as more of a grimace.

Wary of my sore arm I pushed myself to sit up, tucking my legs into my side, wincing slightly as my head spun and nausea twisted in my stomach.

_Did they Roofie my via tranq dart?!_

“Here.” Barnes didn’t move, but rolled a bottle of water towards me, it bumped against my knee and I picked it up, running my finger over the cap.

_Still sealed._

I twisted it slightly, water hitting every inch of the inside.

_No injection holes._

“Thanks,” I said, cracking the bottle open and downing the entire bottle. He held up another one in a silent offering but I shook my head slightly. “I’m Darcy by the way,” I said, hoping that my voice came across as calm as I intended it too.

“I know. You’re Steve’s girl,” He said, my eyebrows shot up mild surprise.

“And you’re Bucky. Steve’s fella,” I countered. He flinched slightly and his eyes darted to the stack of notebooks, before locking back onto me.

“I wasn’t sure… It’s still all – I’m still a little unclear on _before,”_ He said.

“How much do you remember?” I asked, trying to choose my words carefully.

“I remember all of _them._ They made sure of that.” His voice was harsh, there was no doubt who ‘them’ or ‘they’ were. “I remember Moscow and bits of before it all. I remember Stevie. I was a soldier, they called me Sarge… I had a little sister Rebecca, Bexie. My Ma and Pa. Steve just had his Ma, she was a nurse I think. He used to be little… but he’s not now,” He said hesitantly, and his lips twitched slightly in an almost smile at the though.

“He’s definitely not little now,” I agreed with a slight chuckle, it only lasted a second before the smile slipped off my face. “What – what happened? In the street? Who were they?”

“Hydra.” His voice was suddenly sharp and unemotional. “They were sent to kill you. He missed, hit your driver, sloppy. I was following you. They’re all dead. I took out the ones you missed. Your shooting isn’t terrible.”

_Was that supposed to be a compliment?_

“Wait, you were following me?” I asked. _I thought we were supposed to be following him?_

“Since you got back to New York. I followed you back from Texas,” He admitted. I shook my head, somehow not even that surprised.

“What happened to my bag?” I asked. _Did I drop it in the street? I don’t remember, Steve must be going crazy though!_

“It’s there.” He nodded towards his rucksack and as I looked again I could just see the edge of my beige bag behind it.

When he made no move to stop me I pulled myself to my feet, careful of my dodgy balance I limped towards it.

_My leg should not constantly be recalibrating like that…_

It felt like really bad pins and needles, shooting through the metal.

“Are you injured?” He asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Old injury,” I assured him, not looking back. It wasn’t _technically_ a lie.

I leant heavily against the wall, grabbing my bag, trying not to think about bullet holes and dried blood that caked one side of it.

_Oh God, Derek!_

“My driver? What happened to him?” I asked, looking to Barnes who had risen silently to his feet, my gun in his hand, hanging loosely at his side.

“He’s dead.” I flinched at his blunt tone. “I’m sorry. Police arrived as we left,” He added as an afterthought.

Pushing my grief away for now, I dug through my bag, pulling out my phone, wincing at the bullet hole straight through the shattered screen.

_I knew StarkPhones weren’t indestructible!_

“Where are we?” I asked, tossing the useless chunk of broken glass and metal back in my bag.

“New York,” He replied vaguely.

“Steve’s going to be worried. I should get back to the tower,” I said carefully.

_He might not have hurt me, but would he let me leave?_

Barnes nodded slightly.

“It’s not far from here,” He shrugged, trying to like at ease but I didn’t miss the flash of anxiety that crossed his face.

“You could always come with me?” I suggested lightly. Barnes’ eyes widened frantically in panic.

“No.”


	2. Who You Were and Who You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you don’t want to stay, nobody is going to make you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This past week seems to have gone so slowly! I'm glad you're liking how this story has started.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Talks about being drugged. Guilt. Angst.

“I can’t. Steve doesn’t deserve that. I’m not that person anymore –” He shook his head. “He deserves someone _whole_ like you.”

I laughed humourlessly.

“Firstly, what Steve deserves is not for you to decide. Secondly, he doesn’t care if you’re the same as you were in the 40’s, he isn’t either. We weren’t following Hydra bases across the country; we were following _you.”_ Barnes looked genuinely shocked at my words, as if he hadn’t even considered this. “Steve fell off those Helicarrier’s for who you are _now._ He went into battle with less effective armour for who you are _now._ Who you are and who you were are different people, just like who he was and who is are different people. That's okay.

“And thirdly, I may not have pasts like yours or Steve’s, but I’m still not whole and perfect. I’m still pretty messed, and you know what? Steve doesn’t care, he loves me despite that,” I said. Barnes stared at me blankly.

“He wouldn’t care?” He asked, a slight wobble in his voice.

“Oh he cares,” I corrected. “He will be angry and sad and scared but not at you, he will want to go after every single person who ever laid a finger on you. But I swear that to you, he will be his annoyingly patient, caring, respectful self,” I said. _Please, please understand!_

Barnes stared at me blankly, not saying anything.

“Please… Come home!” I begged softly, desperation no doubt evident in my voice. “At least help me get back to the tower, I won’t be able to walk there on my own. If you don’t want to stay, nobody is going to make you.”

_Please just say yes. Please just say yes…_

“Okay… I’ll help you get back,” He finally said. My heart leapt and I bit my lip to stop myself grinning.

Barnes stepped towards me, stuffing the notebooks in his bag, before strapping the large array of weaponry to his body, arranging it in just a way that none of it was visible through his clothes.

“Here –” He held out my Beretta. I hesitantly reached out, taking my gun back. I checked the cartridge before shoving it in the back of my waistband. “You should have a back-up too; take this.” He pulled a small handgun from his ankle, holding out.

Slowly I reached out taking the second gun, I didn’t recognise the model, but checked it over and shoved it in my purse none the less.

Barnes swung his bag on his back and led me out of the building. I was right, it was an abandoned apartment building, and we were still in the city.

I could see the tower from here. It looked about five blocks away.

Gritting my teeth I limped forwards, praying that my leg would hold.

It didn’t.

I made it two blocks before I got particularly sharp feedback shooting through my leg and I stumbled.

Barnes caught me before I hit the floor, helping me back to my feet.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, biting my lip, wincing in pain as I tested my leg.

_Take a breath Darcy. It’s not your real leg. This is all in your head!_

Without a word Barnes wrapped his arm around my waist, supporting most of my weight as I practically hopped the last three blocks.

We reached the foot of the tower and Barnes set his jaw and lead me inside the lobby without faltering.

“That way.” I nodded towards the private elevator, pulling away from him slightly to reach the retinal scan.

“There’s an AI on the upper floors and in the elevator,” I warned, waiting for his nod of understanding before hopping inside, leaning heavily back against the rails. “Jarvis, take me to my floor, get Steve there. _Just_ Steve. Everyone else, which includes Clint and Natasha can wait,” I said firmly.

_The last thing Barnes needs is two overprotective assassins hovering._

_“Certainly Agent Lewis—”_ The elevator started to rise. “And might I add, I’m glad you are home unscathed,” Jarvis said softly, as if said through a fond smile.

“Thanks J,” I said with a small smile of my own.

The elevator stopped and I lead the way down the corridor and into the apartment.

Barnes shifted, scanning the room for any threat, his eyes darted from Steve’s shield propped against the couch, to my Glock on the coffee table and my knife on the table by the front door.

He eyed the three closed doors suspiciously, he didn’t go near them but nor did he turn his back on them.

Satisfied that the place was okay he looked back up at me a little nervously.

“He won’t be mad?” He asked in a heartbreakingly small voice.

“I promise.” I nodded, giving a small reassuring smile.

The front door opened and Barnes stepped in front of my defensively.

Steve stopped dead in the doorway, several expressions running across his face in rapt succession, his eyes darting from me to Barnes and back again.

He looked exhausted, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, his hair a mess, still wearing the same clothes as the last time I saw him.

_How long was I gone for?_

I glanced over at the holographic calendar above the dining room table. _36 hours… Shit!_  

“Bucky… Darcy…” Steve said in a choked whisper. “You’re here… You’re back…” He stepped forwards then faltered, looking back at me, not knowing who to go to.

“I’m okay Steve,” I said softly. “He saved me.” I nodded to Barnes. “I’ll explain later, I’ll give you two some space.” I smiled softly in acceptance, my eyes burning.

_This was it. You said you’d leave when he got back. Now you actually have to!_

I turned away from them, I didn’t make it a step before to hands grabbed my arm, tugging me back around.

Barnes quickly drew his hand away, as if surprised that he’d even reached out.

Steve didn’t let go, he slid his hand from my wrist to my hand though, his thumb ghosting over the back of my hand.

“Stay,” Barnes requested softly. I looked to him in surprise.

_I thought he’d want me to leave? Why doesn’t he hate me?_

I looked up at Steve who nodded.

“Don’t go.”

“Okay…” I said hesitantly. “I’ll stay.”

Steve tugged my hand drawing my closer, I hobbled towards him, leaning into his chest, letting him wrap his arms around me.

“You’re hurt,” He said, looking down at my legs in concern.

“It’s nothing, I’m gonna see Tony about a check-up later. I’m fine,” I assured him.

“She was drugged,” Barnes said. “I don’t know with what.”

I glared at him as Steve looked down at me in worry.

“You need to go to medical,” He said.

“You just told me not to go,” I pointed out. _The last thing I want is to be stuck in medical for several hours, peeing in a pot._

“Jarvis, ask Sam to come down here with his med kit please,” Steve said.

I sighed, admitting defeat. Barnes tensed though.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “Sam’s a friend, he helped us look for you. He used to be a medic.”

Barnes nodded hesitantly.

_“Master Sergeant Wilson is on his way. Agent Barton is inquiring as to when he can come down.”_

“Later,” I said sharply.

“He’s just worried, Doll. You were gone for thirty six hours. We were all worried,” Steve said, pressing his lips softly against the crown of my head.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” He chastised gently.

Barnes reached for a gun at the knock on the door.

“Let him in Jarvis,” Steve said. “It’s just Sam, Bucky. It’s okay.”

Barnes slid to parade rest, his eyes fixed on the door as Sam stepped inside. He grinned and me then froze, the smile slipping off his face.

“Jeez Darce, you really don’t do things by half do ya?” He said, his eyes fixed on Barnes. “Months of searching and all it took was someone trying to kill you to get him out of hiding.” I laughed slightly as Sam came closer.

“You had wings…” Barnes said softly, staring at Sam, with wide, panicked eyes.

“I did.” Sam nodded, his voice hard.

“I broke them…?” It came out as more of a question than a statement.

“You did.” Sam nodded again.

“I’m sorry,” Barnes breathed. Sam’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before smiling easily.

“You weren’t in control, its cool.” Sam waited for Barnes to respond but after a beat he didn’t he turned to me. “What happened?” He asked, moving straight to the couch, gesturing for me to follow him. I did, sitting next to him, Steve the other side, Barnes hovering behind him.

“I was shot with some drug. It felt like a Roofie, but I was out longer,” I explained, Sam’s fingers fumbled on the zip of his bag and Steve clutched me a little tighter.

_What did I –_

“Why do you know what being Roofie’d feels like?” Steve asked and I froze, my eyes widening in momentary panic.

_Oh._

“Years ago, at a party in Culver. Nothing happened, my dorm mate got me out, I slept it off,” I brushed it off. _Now is seriously not the time!_

“So you were drugged, anything else?” Sam asked, opening his bag.

“I think I hit my head when I passed out. I’m fine though,” I said, apparently convincing no one.

“We’ll see,” Sam said, reaching for my wrist, he took my pulse, shone a light in both of my eyes, got me to follow the tip of his finger with my eyes. He asked me several questions, my name, date of birth, the last thing I remember before waking up. “You’ve got a minor concussion, take it easy for a couple of days, no alcohol, and stay out of the range. Open your mouth a second?”

I opened my mouth and he ran a swab across the inside of my cheek, making me scrunch up my nose at the feeling.

He put the swab into a weird machine that beeped, an orange light flashing.

“Not all of the drug is out of your system, it looks like it was a pretty strong roofie, drink plenty of water, and sleep when you get tired, eat something dry, it’s not uncommon to throw up after being drugged. You’re fine though,” He concluded.

I resisted the urge to say I told you so and nodded instead.

“Thanks Sam,” I said.

“No problem, I’ll leave you guys to _talk.”_ He looked pointedly at Steve as he stood up.

“Don’t tell Nat and Clint that he’s here yet,” I requested. Sam looked at me like I was crazy.

“You want me to lie to Natasha? Do you really not value my life at all?” He asked with a deadpanned stare.

“Don’t worry, Clint will protect you, I’m sure,” I teased, anybody could see how close he’d gotten to the two assassins recently.

Sam shook his head and took his leave and Steve turned back to Barnes.

“Do you know who I am?” Steve asked, his voice full of hope as he stared up at Barnes, clutching my hand tightly.

Barnes nodded slightly.

“You’re Stevie… Your Mom’s name was Sarah, you used to wear newspaper in your shoes… You used to be little, a punk…” Barnes said slowly, as if unsure of what he was saying.

“Buck…” Steve dropped my hand, jumping to his feet, wrapping his arms around Barnes who froze in alarm.

Steve noticed his mistake and went to pull away, but Barnes caught his arm before he could.

“I’m sorry,” He said weakly.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” Steve whispered. My heart broke at the familiarity of those words. _How many times has Steve said that to you?_

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Barnes repeated the words again and again like a mantra before he cracked, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder as his entire frame shook with broken sobs.

“It’s not your fault. It wasn’t you,” Steve murmured, his fingers combing through Barnes’ hair, tears streaming freely down his own cheeks.

A tear rolled down my cheek and I turned away from them, hastily wiping it away.

_They fitted so perfectly together? How could I stay here? There was no place for me in this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you all really think I would bring Darcy home and leave Bucky?  
> .  
> Okay, not so fun fact: 1 in 13 college students have reported that they have been or think they have been drugged. 79% of which were female. And 17% of female drugging victims report sexual assault after the effects wear off. [ Source.](http://www.livescience.com/54896-drink-spiking-college-students.html)


	3. Some Things Never Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Not to interrupt or anything but would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has been so long... So have a long-ish chapter!  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Angst, Talks of The Red Room, Talks of Hydra, The KGB but nothing graphic!

“I’m sorry.” Barnes apologised for the thousandth time in the last hour as they pulled apart.

“You don’t ned to apologize. You’re safe now; you’re okay,” Steve said, wiping his face on the end of his sleeve, guiding Barnes to sit between us.

Barnes’ face scrunched up as if he was in pain at the word ‘safe’.

_When did he last feel safe? How many decades ago?_

If he or Steve wanted me to leave I’d be crushed for sure. But I could never hate them and I think that was worse.

_We’ll just take it one day at a time and see what happens._

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, Barnes looked over at me in surprise but nodded.

“You’re not the man you were before Hydra, you aren’t the Winter Soldier anymore, at least not all of the time and I don’t think you’re Natasha’s Yasha either. You have to have a name though…” I trailed off slightly.

“Bucky,” He said firmly. “My name is Bucky or James. You – you can call me either?” The waver in his voice made it sound more like a question, as if he was unsure if he was allowed to decide things for himself.

“Bucky,” I tested softly with a smile.

“How does it work?” Steve asked gently. “The Soldier isn’t gone is he?”

Barnes shook his head.

“I don’t know. He’s still in my head, he just doesn’t always control me... I can’t explain it well. Is Natalia here? I think she understands what _they_ did to us better,” he said, looking up at Steve, whose expression screamed guilt.

“I think she’s upstairs in the Common Room,” I said when Steve didn’t reply. “Jarvis?”

 _“Agent Romanoff is indeed in the Common Room with all other tower residents,”_ Jarvis confirmed.

“Do you want to go up?” Steve asked. “She can always come down.”

Barnes, no Bucky, froze at the question, he stared at the coffee table for a full minute before nodding.

“Go up?” He said quietly.

“Jarvis, please let them know that we’re coming up and that we’re bringing Bucky with us,” I said.

“And Jarvis, please make sure they know Bucky is _not_ a threat,” Steve added.

 _“Agent Romanoff wishes you to know that while she usually respects your judgment, this time she would like to make that assessment for herself,”_ Jarvis relayed after a moment.

I rolled my eyes, pushing myself up to my feet. I swore, reaching out blindly for something to hold as my head spun and pain shot up my leg.

“Easy.” Bucky caught my arm as Steve stood and slid his arm around my waist his hand on my hip like he was going to…

“I swear to God Rogers, if you pick me up I _will_ taze you,” I threatened.

Bucky’s lips twitched and his eyes gleamed with amusement.

“Yes Ma’am,” Steve mumbled sheepishly, his grip on my waist shifting so he was supporting my weight but didn’t pick me up.

“How did a Punk like you get a gorgeous dame with such moxie?” Bucky asked making Steve falter, his head shot up with wide eyes and a soft smile.

Bucky hesitated as if he hadn’t meant for the words to leave his mouth, his lip quivering.

“He’s persistent,” I cut in. “And looks good, and I couldn’t say no to those puppy eyes,” I said with a dreamy sigh.

Steve rolled his eyes, tugging me out of the apartment and into the elevator, Bucky stepping in the other side of me.

“Steve?” Bucky said as the doors slid closed.

“Yeah Bucky?”

“Am I safe?” He asked, his voice small and full of fear.

Steve’s breath hitched, he glanced away for a second, but I didn’t miss the look of raw pain on his face.

“Yeah Buck, you’re safe, I promise. Nobody is going to hurt you here,” Steve promised.

Bucky stared at the two of us as if trying to decide whether we were lying or not and then finally nodded.

The elevator came to a stop with a slight jolt and the doors slid open with the usual ping.

The sight in front of us didn’t surprise me in the slightest.

The Avengers, almost fully armed stood assembled in front of us. Jane, Chelsea, Malia, Betty and Pepper all pushed behind them.

I was however slightly surprised to see Natasha standing unarmed, in front of Clint, blocking his arrow.

Without a word she pulled a silver dagger from her boot, walking forward to stop less than a foot in front of Bucky.

“Natasha…” Steve said, a hint of warning in his voice.

She ignored him, instead she flipped the blade, holding it towards him, handle first, her head bowed.

Bucky hesitated before reaching out with tentative fingers he took the blade, flipping it in the air just as she had and held it out to her.

“Я говорил тебе. Вы свобо дны, Маленький Паук,” He said. _I told you. You are free, Little Spider._

“Вы помните меня?” She breathed. _You remember me?_

“Всe это.” He nodded. _All of it._

Natasha’s face split into a rare genuine grin, she snatched her knife back before reaching up, pressing her lips to each of his cheeks.

“И теперь вы также свободны,” She said softly before pulling away. _And_ _now_ _you_ _are_ _also_ _free_ _._ “Вы на самом деле здесь в безопасности.” _You really are safe here._

She turned back to the others.

“Stand down,” She ordered.

Apparently Steve and Natasha’s opinions combined was good enough, because everyone lowered their weapons, although Maria didn’t put away her Glock.

Nat stepped in front of me, her eyes scanning me for injury.

“I saw the footage. You did really well,” She said, brushing her thumb across my cheek before pulling me into a tight hug.

“It wasn’t bad,” Clint agreed, stepping forwards, nudging her away so he could scoop me up into a bear hug. “You really are okay?” He asked as he pulled away.

“I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Bucky saved me.”

Clint glanced at Bucky sideways, studying him for a moment before his defensive demeanour dropped.

“Thank you; for protecting them,” He said, getting a single nod in return.

Clint stepped back just as Jane came barrelling into me, throwing her arms around my neck. With my balance still messed up I stumbled backwards only for Steve to catch me.

“Jesus Jane, let a girl breathe!” I gasped, wrapping my arms around her waist considerably softer.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She said, letting go and stumbling backwards. “Are you okay? Never mind you already answered that. But really are you okay? What-”

“Jane!” I cut her off.

“What?”

“When was the last time you slept?” I asked, watching in mild amusement as she squirmed.

“Fifty-nine hours,” She said meekly.

I glared accusingly at Thor who shrugged unapologetically.

“Not to interrupt or anything but would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?” Rhodey asked, the War Machine gauntlets still on his hands. “Where did you find Barnes?”

“He found me, he saved me,” I said. “Can we sit down for this? It’s gonna get long and my leg is playing up.”

Everyone moved to take a seat in the conversation pit and I smiled slightly as Malia crawled across Maria, Natasha and Clint’s laps to curl up in mine.

She stared up at Bucky with wide, curious eyes.

“¿Quien?” She asked. _Who?_

“Esto es Bucky,” I replied. _This is Bucky._ “Bucky, this is Malia, my niece.”

“Bucky,” The eighteen month old parroted, reaching her tiny hand towards his face.

Bucky recoiled, staring at the toddler fearfully and had it been anybody else I would have laughed.

Instead I drew her hand away.

“Cariño, somebody hurt Bucky very badly. He might not want you to touch him lots,” I said.

_How did you explain seventy years of brainwashing and abuse to a toddler?_

“Like ‘ncle Mikey, when he comes home?” She asked. I glanced up at Chelsea who nodded vigorously.

“Yes, exactly like that. So you have to be careful, okay?” I said gently.

Malia was silent for a minute before nodding.

“Okay!” She chirped, dropping back down in my lap.

I gave a slight bemused laugh before turning back to everybody else, launching into a recap of the last two days.

“It was definitely Hydra?” Maria asked.

Bucky nodded.

“How can you be so sure?”

Bucky raised his head to glare at her.

“Because I used to be the sniper on the roof, though I wouldn’t have missed. The ground team only would have moved in after the shots were taken, either to take the Intel or the target for interrogation. The sniper missed twice so the ground team moved in to finish the job,” He said gruffly. _“They_ also missed.”

“It was sloppy,” Natasha agreed. “I don’t think there is an immediate threat. They saw a chance and they took it.”

Steve nodded in agreement.

“The other thing…” Maria started, looking cautiously between Bucky, Steve and Natasha. “With all due respect Sergeant Barnes, how can we trust you? The last anybody saw you, you were trying to kill Steve.” Bucky flinched but Maria carried on. “We spent months looking for you, following your trail. But you made no move to approach us, all we found was deserted Hydra bases with missing intel and _relatively_ healthy, very much alive Hydra Agents. How do we know you are not still under their control?”

“Maria!” Steve and Natasha snapped in unison.

“You condemn him for killing people and then for not killing them. You can’t have it both ways,” Steve said with a dark glare.

“I don’t want to kill anybody else,” Bucky said softly. “I needed time before I came – came back.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t remember everything at first, at first I hardly remembered anything. I just knew – I knew I knew Steve. I knew he wasn’t the enemy, he was more than just my target.

“It – he triggered something on the Helicarrier. I remembered bits and pieces… Not enough to make sense. I went back to the Federal Savings Bank.” Bucky shuddered, twisting his head in discomfort. “I took my file and a couple of others… They made sure I always remembered my targets. I never remembered how I got there, what the actual mission was, just the actual kills…

“I read my file… I started to remember Moscow.” He nodded to Natasha who gave a grim smile. “I remembered the procedures, getting my arm, the two years after I fell, before I became the Soldat.

“My file had my original name in. I followed that to Wikipedia and then the Smithsonian... Seeing the clips, and pictures… Seeing my life, spread out like that… I started to remember more of my life before… The war, my family, Steve, everything. I remember most of it, not much of my childhood. I think the earliest thing I remember I was ten.” He looked up at Steve. “Meetin’ you, behind the school, a kid was beating you up, but you kept gettin’ back up.”

“Some things never change,” I said, rolling my eyes fondly.

Steve smiled slightly but gave a guilty shrug.

“Taking out that base was like handing in my resignation letter, and it wasn’t appreciated. Hydra sent six teams in the first week for me.” He looked over at Maria darkly. “You’ll no doubt be pleased to hear that I didn’t leave them remotely healthy… There was a tracker in my shoulder.” He flexed his metal hand, before pulling his hoodie and shirt off his shoulder.

His metal shoulder was missing three plates, I could see a tangle of cables and jagged metal.

It looked as if he’d pried his arm apart with a knife.

I winced slightly at the thought.

If he could feel half as much in his arm as I could in my leg that would have been agony.

Tony shifted as he tried to get a better look, you could practically see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

“I took one tracker out, but I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t another one. Hydra liked to keep track of their assets, so the only way to stop them tracking me was to track them.

“The other files I took from the Bank were locations of other bases. I followed this list across the country and you followed me.”

“What did you do when you got to the end of the list?” Maria asked.

“I watched as Barton picked them up from Texas. I knew they’d be coming back here. I got on a plane and was here six hours after you were. There was no doubt that Hydra would come after the people who live here when they left. But nobody left the tower alone for the last couple of months until two days ago. I followed her to Roxxon and it was obvious something would happen –”

“Why was it obvious?” I interrupted. “What did we miss?”

“Roxxon Oil and Energy has had ties with Hydra for decades.” Bucky looked up at Tony. “They hired Hyrdra, me, to take out Howard and Maria Stark.”

Tony recoiled as if he’d been punched, Pepper gave a horrified gasp as both Rhodey, Natasha and I swore.

“R-Roxxon?” Tony asked.

Bucky nodded.

“Wha –” He looked around unsure if he'd said the right thing.

“Roxxon and Stark Industries have been partners for the last twenty years. They helped re-raise the stock prices after the Stark’s deaths,” Natasha explained softly.

Tony looked up at Pepper desperately.

“I’ve sat in their boardroom. Their CEO came to their funeral… I shook his hand…” Tony buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shuddering.

“I know,” Pepper breathed, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I know.” She looked away angrily.

“What happened after Darcy went into the meeting?” Maria prompted in a slightly softer voice.

“Nothing,” Bucky said tearing his eyes away from Tony. “Nothing happened until she came out. She stopped to talk to her driver, and they took him out. You know the rest… They drugged her and I took out the others. I got her out of their before their backup came.

“And to answer your other question, Deputy Director Hill; I don’t know. I don’t know how you’re supposed to trust me. I don’t know how to determine whether you can trust me or not. The Soldier isn’t gone, the programming, the weapon. It’s still all in my head.” His fingers ghosted across his temple. “I don’t know how to explain it properly.

“It’s like there’s me, my memories, my mind and then there’s the soldier, when I’m him I’m not me. I don’t remember who I am, I just know I’m the Soldat, the Asset,” He said bitterly. “There to follow orders.”

“Could he take over at any point?” Sam asked, curiosity lacing his concern.

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “It has to be triggered, I – I don’t know how though. But _he_ hasn’t been me since DC. The trigger isn’t violence or pain or memories, I think its words.”

Maria and Clint both looked over at Nat who sighed.

“After I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I was fresh from the Red Room, they’d been in my head for years, I was at S.H.I.E.L.D. for six months when they declared me brainwash free, I felt different, I didn’t want to go back to the Red Room so I believed them…

“Six months after that, after I destroyed the Red Room I met one of my old handlers on another totally unrelated mission. He said something, I can’t even remember what, and I was theirs again. I followed every order he gave me that night, even when he told me to shoot Clint.” She looked away regretfully and Clint reached out, taking her hand gently. “The KGB like to use trigger words and phrases, and considering that you were originally conditioned by the KGB it’s most likely you’ll have the same, embedded in your brain somewhere and there’s nothing we can do until someone says them.”

A heavy silence fell across the room, and I looked down at Malia who was fast asleep, her head resting against my stomach as she curled up in what looked like a really uncomfortable position.

_Jesus, that kid can sleep anywhere._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  Я говорил тебе. Вы свобо дны, Маленький Паук - I told you. You are free, Little Spider. - Russian  
> Вы помните меня? - You remember me? - Russian  
> Всe это. - All of it. - Russian  
> И теперь вы также свободны - And now you are also free. - Russian  
> Вы на самом деле здесь в безопасности. - You really are safe here.
> 
> That was... fun?


	4. Cyborg One and Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s a kill switch?”  
>  _“It is a kill switch."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has been a really long roller coaster and I've written so much it's amazing!  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Hiding Injuries. Panic Attack. Talks about Non-Sexual Consent. Issues With Consent For Medical Procedures. Bucky Doesn't Understand Why His Consent Is Important.

_“Forgive the interruption but both Agent Lewis and Sergeant Barnes’ names are appearing together in a large variety of online posts, they are trending on Twitter and Facebook,”_ Jarvis announced.

“Bring it up, J,” I requested, shifting forwards to the edge of my seat as the holograph appeared above the coffee table, Clint pulled the table forwards and I passed Malia down to Natasha as Jarvis pulled up twitter where my eyes were drawn to the top three trends.

 _Darcy Lewis_  
Bucky Barnes  
#BuckyBarnesIsStillAWarHero

I tapped on my name and I gave an exasperated sigh at the pictures of the attack two days ago and Bucky helping me through the streets and into the tower.

I flicked through the feeds and winced slightly.

_@l_lance  
Did @darcy_lewis just take a bullet in the leg and keep fighting? #Badass_

_@KittyPryde  
@l_lance she can’t have done, there was no blood._

“You took a bullet?” Bucky’s voice was soft and scared next to me as he stared at the picture of me hunched over my leg as it sparked. He reached towards my leg but I pulled it harshly away from him.

“I’m fine. It missed,” I lied, getting several disbelieving looks in return.

“You’ve been limping since you got back,” Steve pointed out.

“There was no blood… You said it was an old injury. I didn’t check.” Bucky’s voice wavered.

I sighed, leaning down I snatched a knife out Clint’s boot, cutting the left leg of my pants just above my Converter and sliced the seam.

“I liked these pants,” I mumbled regretfully, tossing the material on the table and handing Clint’s knife back only for him to slap me the upside of the head.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Why did you not tell me?” Sam asked, a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to –”

I was cut off as Bucky gave a strangled gasp, shifting back into Steve.

“You – they – weapon – asset –” He was on his feet backing away from me, his wide eyes fixed on my leg.

“—Worry anyone…” I finished meekly.

“Buck?” Steve rose slowly to his feet.

“У нее есть оружие. Она похожа на меня.” He muttered. _She has a weapon. She’s like me._

Natasha rose to her feet, passing Malia to Chelsea she stepped towards him, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Yasha – Bucky, это просто протезирование, это не оружие,” She said. _It’s just a prosthetic, it’s not a weapon._ “Это не оружие. Посмотри на это. Это сломано, это не поддается разрушению, как ваша. Это просто ее протезирование.” _This is not a weapon. Look at it. It is broken, it is not indestructible like yours. It’s just her prosthetic._

Bucky looked down at my leg, the plates in the back of my calf were mangled together, a bullet wedged between a circuit board, pain shooting up my leg as the plates tried to recalibrate around the bullet.

 “Не оружие?” He asked, his voice small and broken like a scared child. _Not a weapon?_

“Нет. Не более, чем обычные ноги.” Nat shook her head, holding out her hand. _No. No more than any other leg._

Bucky reached out, slowly taking her hand, letting her tug him back to his seat, Steve shifted to the floor at his feet, reaching out to lift my leg up, propping it up on the coffee table, making me wince.

“Jarvis, run a full scan, order in some supplies, and get the vibranium from that warehouse delivered,” Tony said, kneeling the other side of my leg, his fingers brushing over it. “I can stop it hurting but I need to shut it down?” He looked up at me. “It’ll just be for a minute.”

_It’ll be like my leg is gone again…_

Biting my lip I nodded, reaching out blindly I clutched Steve’s hand tightly.

“Jarvis, power down her leg,” Tony instructed.

I gave a shuddering gasp as my leg recalibrated, starting at my toes the plates shifted and the sensors powered down and I slowly lost feeling up my leg.

I turned to press my face into Clint’s arm as the last tingling in my toes faded.

_It’s gone…_

“Take a breath,” He murmured as I felt Steve’s other hand press just above my converter.

I forced myself to take a deep breath that was more like a sob before I looked up, watching as Tony grabbed a screwdriver from God knows where and started prying the bullet out of my leg.

Dropping it on the table with a light clatter.

I tried to pay little attention as Tony murmured quietly to Jarvis, pulling out a couple of wires and an entire circuit board.

“Okay,” He concluded, pressing one of the plates, they shifted and rotated and the metal smoothed itself out back to usual. “This isn’t going to be nearly as good as usual, this part of your calf won’t have any feeling but it shouldn’t hurt anymore.” He looked up at me and I gave a nod of conformation, wriggling my toes hesitantly. “Come by my lab this evening, I’ll replace it, I’ve been working on a new model for a while.” He looked over at Bucky. “With your permission I’d like to build you a new arm, that tech is decades out of date,” He said.

Bucky’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“ _My_ permission?” He asked.

“It’s your body Buck. Nobody’s gonna touch you if you don’t want them to. If you don’t want a new arm, Tony won’t make you one. It’s _your_ decision,” Steve said softly.

Bucky stared at Steve with wide eyes for a full minute, not knowing what to do.

“I could make you an arm, to look at. I don’t have to attach it or take the old one off though. You can decide later,” Tony suggested.

Bucky hesitated then nodded slightly.

“Jarvis, scan do a full body scan of Barnes, send it up to my lab.”

Instead of replying the red light appeared from the ceiling and Bucky tensed as it ran up and down his body.

A holographic 3D picture floated above the coffee table.

 _“Sir, there is something rather concerning in Sergeant Barnes’ elbow,”_ Jarvis said, a hint of urgency in his voice as the hologram zoomed in to the inside of Bucky’s elbow, the picture went straight through the metal and showed various wires and circuit boards.

Wedged between two circuit boards was a black box wired into the sensors.

“What is that?” I asked as Tony manipulated the image to get a closer look.

_“It contains a large electrical pulse which is wired into the sensors and would send a rather large, potentially fatal, shock up Sergeant Barnes’ arm.”_

“It’s a kill switch?” Steve asked.

 _“It is a kill switch,”_ Jarvis confirmed, a sharp intake of breath echoed around the room.

“Can it be removed?” Natasha asked, her arms folded across her chest.

“Can it be – of course it can. I can fix anything. Jarvis give me the specs for it,” Tony said, his eyes flying across the picture as text flew through the air, a grim look set on his face. “Jarvis, stop all incoming radio waves. TV, phone, everything.”

“Tony?” Pepper prompted softly.

“The only way to disable it is to remove the arm, the device would activate by a particular radio wave but there’s no way of working out which frequency until it activates,” Tony explained.

Bucky nodded slightly in understanding. He looked between Steve and Natasha, having a silent conversation with both of them.

Finally he nodded slightly.

“Take it off,” He said quietly. Tony nodded, rolling to his feet.

“Okay, Cyborg One and Two: give me twenty minutes then come to my lab,” He said, he nodded at Pepper and disappeared into the elevator, Bruce and Betty right behind him.

Bucky looked confused at Tony’s abruptness, turning to glance between Steve and Natasha in confusion.

“He does that a lot,” Nat said with a half-hearted shrug.

“I’m gonna go take a quick shower,” I said, pushing myself to my feet, raising my eyebrows in surprise as both Steve and Bucky also rose to their feet.

“We’ll come down with you,” Steve said, looking to Bucky who nodded slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  У нее есть оружие. Она похожа на меня. - She has a weapon. She's like me. - Russian  
> это просто протезирование, это не оружие - It's just a prosthetic, it's not a weapon. - Russian  
> Это не оружие. Посмотри на это. Это сломано, это не поддается разрушению, как ваша. Это просто ее протезирование. - This is not a weapon. Look at it. It is broken, it is not indestructible like yours. It's just her prosthetic. - Russian  
> Не оружие? - Not a Weapon - Russian  
> Нет. Не более, чем обычные ноги. - No. No more than any other leg. - Russian


	5. Nothing To Forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gay? Not exactly. I’m definitely not straight though."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sleep deprived right now so sorry for the mistakes.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Anxiety attack (mostly off screen). Forgiveness, but not really because nobody needs to be forgiven. Confused puppy Bucky Barnes.

I took a quick, ten minute, shower, dressing in a pair of denim shorts and an oversized Star Wars t-shirt.

I quietly pushed open the bedroom door, looking around at Steve and Bucky who were sitting on the couch, several of Steve’s sketch books and Bucky’s journals were spread out across the coffee table.

“…We were in France? I think and Dugan walked in on us. We thought we’d get Blue Ticket’s for sure. But… but he didn’t care. I think the rest of ‘em knew,” Bucky said, his voice soft and uncertain.

“They did,” Steve said softly. “Peggy too. As long as it didn’t get in the way of the job, they didn’t care. Not as many people do now.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked, looking up at him in confusion.

Steve opened his mouth several times, not knowing quite how to explain it.

“It’s legal,” He said simply. “In this country at least. No more Blue Tickets.”

“So, being a queer–”

“Don’t use that word,” I spoke before I could stop myself, wincing at the harshness in my voice. Both of their heads snapped up to look at me. “Sorry.” I stepped over to them, dropping onto the couch the other side of Bucky. “Queers been used one to many times as a slur around me for me to be comfortable with it,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said. “Are you – are you –?” He looked between Steve and I in confusion.

“Gay? Not exactly. I’m definitely not straight though. I call myself Pansexual, it means that gender doesn’t bother me at all, it doesn’t cross my mind. I’m attracted to a person’s personality alone,” I said.  “Then you can be attracted to just two genders, that’s called bisexual. Gay, lesbian, demi. There are a few, but they’re all okay.

“I mean, some people still disagree, think they’re wrong and all the usual shtick, but in this country same-sex marriage is currently legal in sixteen states and several other countries, England, Canada, Spain, France. I’m not sure the exact number of countries. It’s not perfect, nowhere near,” I said. “But it’s progress.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, looking up at Steve.

“What – what do you call yourself?” He asked hesitantly.

“Bi. There’s so many labels now, but Bisexual is the one that fits me best,” Steve said with a smile.

“If you want to find out more about it all, I’m sure Jarvis can give you some information,” I suggested.

 _“Certainly. I shall send it all to Sergeant Barnes’ StarkPad,”_ Jarvis said.

“I – I don’t have a – a StarkPad?” Bucky looked up at the ceiling in confusion.

 _“Sir has provided a StarkPad, StarkPhone and StarkLaptop for Sergeant Barnes as a welcome home gift,”_ Jarvis said.

“Oh… Erm… Yes, please. Send everything there,” Bucky said, with a distant nod.

 _“Not to interrupt, but Sir is ready for Agent Lewis and Sergeant Barnes in his lab,”_ Jarvis interrupted.

I pushed myself out of my chair, both super-soldiers following my lead, we headed out of the elevator to the lab.

Stepping out of the elevator Bucky stepped dead in the doorway of Tony’s lab, his wide, horror filled eyes fixed on the black medical couch and trolley full of tools next to it.

“Buck?” Steve said, his hand hovering centimetres above Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky didn’t respond, he didn’t make any indication he’d even heard Steve speak.

“Jarvis?” I said, my hand drifting back towards my Glock but I didn’t touch it.

 _“Sergeant Barnes’ vitals suggest that he is having an Anxiety Attack,”_ Jarvis said.

“Bucky can you hear me?” Steve asked, Bucky still didn’t blink. “Bucky, you need to breathe. You’re safe. Its 2014, you’re in New York, with the Avengers. You’re safe –”

I tuned out of what Steve was saying and turned back to the lab, my eyes scanning over every inch of the room.

“Tony help me get rid of this,” I said, limping into the room.

Without a question Tony helped me collapse the medical couch, shoving it into the supply closet, shutting the door firmly.

We pushed the tattered old couch that I’d spent many a nights on further forwards, pulling the tray of tools next to it.

Turning back to the door Bucky and Steve were sitting on the floor together, Bucky’s back pressed against the wall, Steve kneeling in front of him, talking to him softly. Bucky seemed to be back with it as he replied to what Steve had said, too quiet for us to hear.

Tony and I leant back against a desk, watching from a distance as they spoke, Steve seemed to ask him something and after a beat Bucky nodded. Steve smiled, rolling to his feet, holding his hand out, Bucky clasped hold of it, using it to leaver himself off of the floor.

Tony pushed off of the table stepping towards them.

“Are we good?” He asked, looking between the pair.

Barnes looked up apologetically.

“I’m sorry – I – the chair and the tools –”

Tony waved his hand and Barnes’ mouth snapped shut.

“I wasn’t looking for an apology, Man. I was asking if you’re alright?” Tony asked, the tone of evident concern slightly out of character.

Bucky’s dear in headlights expression faded into soft surprise and he nodded slightly.

“Good.” Tony nodded, turning back to Darcy. “Wanna go first Kid?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

I hobbled over to the couch, Steve sitting next to me as Bucky stood warily a couple of feet away.

Tony set a long black case at my feet, kneeling down next to the couch.

“Ready?” He asked. I nodded slightly, clutching Steve’s hand tightly to brace myself, I closed my eyes, letting my head drop back against the back of the couch. “Jarvis, power it down.”

I tensed as once again the sensation of my leg faded into nothing. I forced myself to breathe as Steve rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand in random patterns.

I listened to the sounds of the case unlocking, and the clink of metal against metal before a foreign, lighter, weight hung from my leg.

“Ready for it to go back on?” Tony asked.

My eyes snapped open and I looked down at my new leg, it was almost identical, same style plates, although this one was shinier and felt much lighter.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Power, J.” Tony sat back on his heels, watching intently as the plates recalibrated, giving the feeling of light pins and needles before full sensation came back to me.

I shifted my foot against the tiled floor, I felt myself take a soft gasp of surprise.

It was more sensitive than before.

Before I could feel the pressure and extreme temperatures, but now I could feel the smoothness of the tiles, I could feel the warmth of the under-floor heating, it felt _exactly_ the same as my flesh foot did.

Tony reached out, running his finger over the arch of my foot making me jerk away with a surprised giggle.

“It tickles!” I gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“That was the idea,” Tony said with an easy grin. “We weren’t sure if it was going to be too sensitive and overload you. Just in case it does start giving you headaches Jarvis can turn the sensors back to what the ones on your old leg were at.”

“It’s different though. Its lighter, feels more real,” I said, experimentally wiggling my toes and bending my knee.

“It is. It’s made of vibranium, Stark Industries had some in storage that hadn’t been touched since the war. We had just enough to make this new leg and Barn – Bucky’s arm,” He answered Steve’s unasked question.

“I don’t understand,” Bucky said, his voice barely audible above the whirring of various machines.

“Understand what?” Steve coaxed gently.

“Why you’re fixing my arm. I killed your parents.” His voice was blunt, void of all emotions, but you could see his confusion on his face. “Why would you forgive me for that?”

Bucky’s sudden admission made Tony falter slightly but he quickly recovered, shaking his head.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Tony said truthfully. “It – it was your body that did it, yes. But it wasn’t your mind. It wasn’t you. So I don’t need to forgive you or hate you, because _you’ve_ done nothing wrong. I’m doing this because even I’ll admit that you deserve a break and because you’re Steve’s family, and we look out for our own around here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to the LGBT+ discussion and marriage equality, this is set currently in August 2014, before the equality act of 2015.  
> [Tony's Couch.](https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/25051341657273499/) [Darcy's Outfit.](https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/25051341657273448/)


	6. Mrs Barnes' Spaggheti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you miss it? Before?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS STORY IS 2000 WORDS FROM 50 000 WORDS! I LOVE NANOWRIMO!   
> **Chapter Warnings:** Aftermaths of being drugged. Descriptions of medical scarring!

Tony worked in silence; according to Jarvis once he disabled Bucky’s arm he had exactly four minutes to remove the entire arm before the kill switch was activated.

Tony removed it in two.

He disconnected the final wire, moving swiftly to set it in a sealed glass tank as the elbow sparked and all of the wires burst into flames.

“Shit,” I breathed, watching as the plates shifted before falling still.

“That’s one word for it.” Tony nodded.

Bucky was staring at it with wide eyed horror and I tried not to look horrified as I looked at him.

Metal that had once covered his shoulder was gone. His shoulder was fully intact but you could see how his arm had been surgically amputated and from his stump up to the base of his neck was old mangled looking scars on pale skin.

The scars across his chest were fresher, from where his arm had been almost implanted under his skin, probably cutting into him every time he moved. Some of the scars were clean medical incisions around the very bottom of his stump, probably where they had to amputate part of his arm that was left.

The worst of the scars however were the most prominent; they were from wounds that had healed without much needed stitches. They looked as though when the most of his arm was lost, it had taken parts of the skin from his remaining shoulder with it.

“The new one should be ready to be fitted in ten days,” Tony said, not giving the scars a second glance. “I think – if _you_ want – we can have a converter attached tomorrow?”

“A converter?” Bucky asked in confusion.

“One of these.” Tony tapped my converter. “It takes the signals from your arm and converts them into signals that your nerve endings can read and sent them to your brain and vice versa. It changes the prosthesis’ temperature, movements etc. It will do it in a way that won’t give you headaches, which, I’m pretty sure that one did.” Bucky nodded slightly. “We can attach that to your stump tomorrow _if you_ want.” Bucky nodded again. “Awesome, I can work with that. Until then, I need my lab back. I, and by I, I mean Jarvis, will call you when it’s done.”

Tony made pointed shooing gestures towards the door.

I smiled wryly, pulling myself to me feet, taking a second to get the feel of my new leg as Bucky, with Steve’s help, tugged his shirt back on.

“Thanks Tony,” I called out as we headed towards the door.

We took the elevator down the gym, I smiled slightly as Bucky watched the projections on the elevator wall in fascination.

Stepping into the gym, Steve and I stood back, letting Bucky scan the range with an appreciative nod.

We showed him through all of the Communal Rooms before heading back up to our apartment, where I flopped back onto the couch with a soft moan of appreciation.

Steve chuckled slightly.

“I’m gonna start with dinner,” He said. I hummed in agreement, not bothering to open my eyes.

“You’re cooking?” Bucky asked, surprise lacing his voice.

“Spaghetti?” I asked, knowing that was the only thing he could really cook.

 “Yep.” Steve nodded.

“My Ma made spaghetti,” Bucky remembered quietly.

“She did,” Steve said with a soft smile. “It’s her recipe. You can help if you want to.”

“I don’t – I don’t remember how,” Bucky said.

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “I can show you?”

Bucky nodded slightly after a minute.

I watched with a slight smile as they moved into the kitchen, I pulled a blanket over myself, pulling up a random episode of Agent Carver.

I got half way through the opening credits before my eyes drooped and I let myself drift.

.

“Darcy, wake up. Wake up, Sweetheart.”

I opened my eyes groggily. Steve was crouched in front of me, a glass of water in his hand.

“Dinners ready,” He said, and I winced as my head throbbed despite his hushed voice. “Here.” He took my arm and helped me sit up, pressing the glass into my hands. “Sam said drink loads and try to eat something,” He said as I downed the entire glass, before pulling myself up to my feet, standing still for a second as my head settled.

“I’m good,” I assured him as he pried the glass out of my hand before I dropped it.

We walked over to the table where Bucky was laying out plates.

“This looks amazing,” I gushed, smiling in thanks as Bucky pulled out my chair, both of them waiting for me to sit down before taking their own seats.

Steve piled out plates and neither he nor I commented as Bucky waited for both of us to eat before he took his own first bite.

His eyes widened slightly, glassing over as he chewed.

“Buck?” Steve asked in concern, his fork hovering inches from his mouth.

Bucky startled in, scrubbing at his face in frustration.

“I’m sorry,” He muttered irritably.

“It’s okay,” I assured him as Steve hesitated, his own eyes suddenly glassy.

“I did the same thing,” He started, then thought better of it and shook his head, stabbing his spaghetti with more force than necessary.

“Steve?” I prompted lightly.

He twisted his pasta idly for a minute before continuing.

“The first time I made Mrs Barnes’ garlic bread, it was _months_ after I moved in here but… but that little bit of before, it made this place feel like home for the first time,” He said.

I smiled softly in surprise.

I didn’t know that.

I remembered Steve when Jane and I first moved in.

He was almost unbearably polite, He hesitated with almost everything, every conversation, every touch, every interaction.

It wasn’t often that Steve spoke about his time immediately after he woke up.

All I knew was he spent time in a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house, he went through various psych evals before he was authorised to get his own apartment. Then a couple of days later Fury re-recruited him and New York happened.

“Do you miss it?” Bucky asked, his voice quiet and slightly hopeful. “Before?”

Steve hesitated as if he was considering lying before he finally nodded. “Everyday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agent Carver is basically Agent Carter but imagine it with _so_ many seasons and it didn't all end up being about a love triangle!


	7. #DarcyLewisSIProsthesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turned out, Steve hadn’t been exaggerating on how big of a science nerd Bucky was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is over 50 000 words long!! I got crazy inspiration and now it's actually going somewhere!  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Talks about drugging. Darcy overthinks things.

The evening drew on and Steve showed Bucky to the spare room and lent him some essentials for the night before we headed to our own room.

I curled into Steve’s side, my head resting on top of his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Neither of us spoke.

Neither of us slept.

Neither of us moved.

We just lay together in silence, my mind running on overdrive.

_Bucky was still a wanted man._

_The Winter Soldier was still_ technically _here._

_We were technically all harbouring an international fugitive._

_An international fugitive who was my boyfriend’s ex._

_My boyfriend’s ex, who is a former brainwashed Soviet assassin._

My thoughts were cut short as a terrified scream tore through the air.

I rolled to the side, my feet hitting the floor, snatching my Glock off the nightstand in the same movement. My head snapped to Steve who was stood, shield in hand.

“Jarvis, report?” He snapped sharply.

 _“It’s Sergeant Barnes, Captain. His vitals suggest he’s having a night terror. I cannot seem to wake him,”_ Jarvis said.

Exchanging a quick look with Steve, I tossed my gun back on the table as he dropped his shield back down, I followed him out of the room and straight into Bucky’s.

“Lights twenty percent please Jarvis,” I instructed, standing back as Steve dropped onto the bed next to Bucky, narrowly missing his flying fist.

The lights raised.

“Bucky, wake up!” He shouted, pinning Bucky’s arm to the bed. “C’mon Bucky, snap out of it. You’re safe!”

Bucky’s body tensed dangerously for a split second before his eyes snapped open and he tried to twist Steve off of him, and had he had both of his arms, he no doubt would have succeeded.

“Bucky, stand down! It’s Steve! You’re safe!”

Bucky instantly went limp against Steve, dropping back against the bed, turning his face away from us as his body shook with silent sobs.

“Buck?” Steve breathed.

“’M sorry. No, please, I’m sorry!” He sobbed.

“Bucky?” Steve reached out, resting his hand on Bucky’s arm, wincing slightly at his flinch. “Buck, you’re safe. You don’t need to apologise,” He murmured, rubbing his arm gently as he sobbed. “Nobody’s going to hurt you. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

I wrapped my arms around myself awkwardly.

“I’ll go get some drinks,” I said, quietly excusing myself.

I moved into the kitchen, pouring enough milk for three mugs into a pan, setting it on the stove.

I lent forwards against the counter, running my hands across my face and back through my hair.

_How am I supposed to help? I don’t even know him. What am I supposed to do?!_

_“Agent Lewis, Sergeant Barnes wishes to know if you’re okay?”_ Jarvis asked.

I startled in surprise, pushing myself up.

“Oh, erm – I’m fine. Yeah, er - I’ll be there in a second,” I said, drying my face with the end of my sleeve, turning back to the stove where the milk was boiling.

_How long had I been stood here?_

I poured the milk between the three mugs, making sure I made them just how Steve said reminded him of home, before carefully carrying the mugs back into the spare – into _Bucky’s_ room.

The two of them were leaning back against the headboard, Steve’s arm around Bucky’s shoulders talking to each other softly.

I tapped my metal toes against the door frame, in leer of knocking, making both of them look up at me in unison.

Bucky went to pull away from Steve but I slid around the bed, sitting on his other side, keeping him in place before he could get very far.

They both looked slightly surprised but neither commented.

“Here, I made hot chocolates. I would have been quicker but Steve has an aversion to microwaving milk,” I said, passing a mug across to Steve and one to Bucky. Ignoring the roll of Steve’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Bucky murmured, still looking unsure between me and Steve.

Steve sighed dramatically, gently nudging Bucky with his foot.

“Ask her,” He prompted. “She won’t mind.”

I looked up between them curiously.

“Ask me what?”

“Your leg –” Bucky hesitated. “Does it hurt?”

I tried to mask my surprise, I expected, like everybody else, for Bucky to ask what happened, but I suppose for _him,_ this was the more logical question.

“Not now,” I said truthfully. “When I first got it, it didn’t hurt it was just weird… it was weird to be able to feel my toes again, that sort of thing. When I first got it installed with the temperature and sensitivity settings weren’t quite right and they’d give me some pretty nasty migraines, but Jarvis and I managed to sort ‘em out pretty quick, and once the settings were set I hadn’t had an issue at all until I got shot,” I told him.

I spent the next little while explaining to a curious Bucky how my leg worked, using the holographic tablet to show him the schematics.

As it turned out, Steve hadn’t been exaggerating on how big of a science nerd Bucky was. He wanted to know how _every little_ thing worked.

I passed him the hologram and watched with a small smile as his eyes lit up in curiosity and excitement as he manipulated the image of his new arm, occasionally asking a question here or there.

Bucky and I were so engrossed in the hologram that neither of us noticed Steve moving to fetch his sketch book, or the sun slowly creeping up through the tinted window until I looked over at a clock.

“Holy shit, its six am?!” I exclaimed in surprise. _We’d been talking for four hours?!_

Steve looked up from his sketch with a small smile.

 _“Not to interrupt,”_ Jarvis interrupted. _“But I have just received word from Agent Morse. She and Agent Coulson are on route to the tower.”_

I snorted softly.

“I bet Clint’s happy,” I commented.

 _“Not very. Although Agent Romanoff has informed Master Sergeant Wilson of their history and he however, is delighted!”_ Jarvis said.

Steve and I paused, looking up in surprise.

“Sam is on Clint and Nat’s floor at six am?” Steve asked, a small smile playing at his lips.

_“Indeed. He spent the night there.”_

I grinned gleefully, imagining various ways to tease him.

“What are Coulson and Bobbi coming here for anyway?” Steve asked, but from the tone of his voice I think he feared the answer.

 _“They, like various other Agencies, have heard that Sergeant Barnes is residing in the tower,”_ Jarvis said.

“And we’re all now harbouring a fugitive,” I finished bitterly.

“I can go. You shouldn’t be in trouble because of –”

“No.” I reached out, resting my hand on his shoulder. “Stay, it’s okay. We can handle S.H.I.E.L.D. and whoever else comes our way,” I said.

Steve smirked in agreement.

“Tony was just telling me the other day about a trial run for a new lawyer that Clint found,” He said.

_Clint found a – never mind. It’s Clint, he has a habit of picking up strays. Hopefully we won't need the lawyer._

“I am going to make breakfast,” I declared, changing the subject entirely as I pushed myself to my feet, leaving Bucky’s tablet on the nightstand. “If anybody wants anything in particular they should come now,” I said, before heading back to the kitchen, grinning brightly at the pot of freshly made coffee. “God, I love you Jarvis!”

_Whatever did we do before we had an AI?!_

_“If I were able to feel emotions such as love, I could assure you that the feeling would be mutual,”_ He said, I smiled slightly.

I’ve read Jarvis’ code several times, Tony’s managed to code it in such a way that there’s no way Jarvis doesn’t have emotions. I mean, how many other AI’s have that good a concept on sarcasm?

I poured myself a mug of coffee, before pulling open the fridge, drumming my fingers on the back of the door thoughtfully for a second before I started pulling out eggs and bacon.

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked, coming to sit at the breakfast bar.

“I’m fine,” I said automatically with a slight shrug, tearing open a packet of bacon.

Steve caught my hands, tugging me to stand in front of him, one hand set firmly on my hip to stop me tugging away, the other gently cupped my cheek.

“Darcy?” He said, slightly firmer. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll _be_ fine,” I said. If I admitted I was anything but fine he would insist I spent the entire day in bed and I could not be dealing with that level of boredom, especially with the current circumstances I would no doubt start overthinking _everything._

Steve raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“You didn’t sleep at all last night, your nap while we were cooking doesn’t count. Don’t push yourself to far,” He said sternly.

There was a soft snort from the doorway, making me look up in surprise.

“That’s rich coming from you, Punk,” Bucky said, then hesitated as if he hadn’t intended for the words to leave his mouth, but when neither of us reprimanded him, he continued. “You would constantly overdo it. Even when you couldn’t.”

Steve positively beamed at Bucky, despite the fact that Bucky wasn’t helping his argument.

“See.” I prodded Steve in the chest. “Hypocrite.”

“But really, you shouldn’t overdo it, Кукла,” Bucky commented.

Steve grinned triumphantly, picking me up, perching me on top of the stool that he’d been sitting on two seconds previously.

Bucky’s lips quirked slightly as he sat next to me, watching as Steve poured them both coffee and started on breakfast.

“I’m capable of making breakfast ya know?” I said, pouting over my coffee mug.

“So am I,” Steve said.

Rolling my eyes I reached for my tablet, I scrolled through twitter with a slight wince.

Bucky and I were _still_ trending.

There were still theories about me being shot and I froze at the new trend.

_#DarcyLewisSIProsthesis_

“Steve,” I called softly, holding out my tablet to him.  _Everybody knew about my leg._

Steve read the tablet and sighed, pressing a gently kiss to my hair.

“It was going to happen eventually,” He said, I nodded slightly.

“I know. I’ll talk to Pepper later, I think she was talking about a Press Conference,” I said.

Steve nodded in acceptance, passing the tablet back to me.

Breakfast passed in light conversation about life in the tower in general. Steve decided to postpone his usual trip to the gym because of Bobbi and Coulson’s impending arrival.

We cleared up the breakfast stuff and I disappeared to take a quick shower and get dressed, in a comfy skater dress, not caring enough to piece an entire outfit together.

I slid my feet into a pair of pumps, running a brush through my hair and dabbing a little bit of concealer under my eyes. When I decided I finally looked decent enough for the day, I headed back into the main room where Steve and Bucky were waiting.

We took the elevator up to the Common Room where everybody was already in and around the kitchen.

“How’re you feeling?” Sam asked as I slid into the chair he pulled out for me. “And if you use the words ‘I’m fine’ then I will ban you from the gym for a week.”

“I’m… Okay,” I said, smiling slightly as he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“C’mon, work with me here Darce!” He pleaded, before glancing over at Clint. “Clint can you chuck me that bag – no don’t actually chuck it, it’ll break!”

He rolled his eyes again as Clint _passed_ him the bag, I couldn’t help but notice the soft smile on Sam’s lips, he turned back to me and I waggled my eyebrows at him.

“Shut up!” He scoffed, kicking my shin lightly as he unzipped the bag, pulling out a familiar looking drugs test.

I wrinkled nose in distaste as he took a swab on the inside of my mouth, smiling in satisfaction as the light flashed green.

“What have I told you about doing medical stuff at the dining table? It’s unhygienic or something!” Tony said, waving his hands distastefully.

“And yet oil covered rags are the height of hygiene!” Natasha said, hooking a disgusting looking rag on her finger, tossing it straight into Tony’s face.

I winced as Sam shone a light into each of my eyes before pressing his fingers to the inside of my wrist to take my pulse.

“You’re sleep deprived,” He said with a pointed look. “But otherwise you’re fine. The drug is totally out of your system.”

I nodded.

“See, I told you so.” I gave Steve a pointed look, he just rolled his eyes.

“Take it easy though. Still stay out of the gym for twenty four hours,” Sam finished, I sighed.

Steve smirked triumphantly. “See, I told you so,” He mocked.

“Ass,” I mumbled, pushing myself to my feet, smiling in thanks to Sam as I went to pour myself another cup of coffee.

“So, I just got word from Sharon,” Natasha stepped forward, her phone in hand. “She and her CO are on their way to arrest Bucky. ETA one hour.”

“The lawyers are all on standby, they’re in the building and ready,” Pepper said then hesitated. “The board however… they’re don’t all agree with us using Stark Industries lawyers for a non-Stark Industries defence.”

“Aren’t half of them also employed by the Avengers Initiative?” Clint asked.

“Technically. A couple of them agreed to represent Bucky privately,” Pepper said with a slight shrug.

“Give them all a raise,” Tony muttered. Pepper shot him a look that clearly said _you’re not the CEO anymore._ But she nodded anyway.

 _“A S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet is requesting permission to land. Director Coulson and Agent Morse are the only ones aboard,”_ Jarvis announced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  Кукла - Doll - Russian (That's going to be appearing a lot so this is the only chapter that will have that translation in.)  
> Okay, quick question! Would you prefer an in depth version of Bucky's recovery before the relationship drama ensures or would you rather have short time jumps and details of his recovery in snippets?


	8. My Name Is Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sergeant Barnes was a Prisoner of War, the longest person _ever_ held as a Prisoner of War. To my knowledge, this country tends to frown upon prosecuting their War Hero’s and POWs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter seems really long. You're welcome!  
> I love Sharon Carter, she's so underrated!   
> **Chapter Warnings:** Talk about Bucky's time with Hydra, nothing explicit.

“Let ‘em land,” Tony said with an absent wave of his hand, but the line of tension across his forehead was clear.

Everyone slowly gravitated towards the doors, Steve scooped Malia up on his way, chiding her gently as once again she reached towards Bucky.

The doors to the balcony opened and Coulson and Bobbi stepped inside, a sidearm visibly strapped to Bobbi’s hip, her hand resting on top of it as her eyes locked onto Bucky who tensed next to Steve.

Coulson’s eyes flicked between Steve, Nat and Clint.

“We good?” He asked.

“We’re good,” Natasha said. Clint nodded slightly in agreement.

Bobbi’s hand slid off her gun as she straightened into parade rest, Bucky didn’t relax.

“Good.” Coulson nodded. “Now would someone like to fill us in, on what the hell has been going on around here?” He turned to me. “We saw the footage, Skye’s freaking out, you still haven’t called her back,” He said wearily.

“Yeah, I should probably do that,” I said meekly, remembering the several missed calls and messages I still have to respond to after my… untimely disappearance.

“You’re okay though?” Bobbi asked.

I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

She gave me an understanding look.

Coulson looked between us all on confusion.

“What exactly happened?” He asked.

“We’ll explain it all when Sharon gets here,” Natasha said decisively. “We don’t need to go through it more than necessary.”

“Sharon?” Bobbi raised an eyebrow.

“Carter. She’s with the CIA now, she and her CO are on their way,” Nat explained.

Bobbi gave an impressed nod, as if she didn't know Sharon's new status. “Fair enough." 

.

 _“Agent Sharon Carter and Deputy Task Force Commander Everett Ross are in the lobby with a Strike Team,”_ Jarvis announced.

Everyone tensed.

We were expecting Sharon and a CO.

Not an entire, fully armed, Strike team.

“Let Carter and Ross up,” Tony said. “If anyone else gets in the elevator don’t let it up. Secure the stair well too.”

Jarvis didn’t reply verbally but projected the security feeds into the air.

We watched tensely as Sharon seemed to be arguing with the older man, Everett Ross.

“Is he related to you?” Tony asked, looking to Betty.

“No.” She shook her head. “I think he works with the General though.”

Eventually on the screen he sighed, stepped into the elevator waving off the Strike team. Sharon hid a small smile, stepping in, letting the doors slide closed.

Steve’s arms folded tightly across his chest as he stood in front of the elevator, Bucky stood between the two of us, as the rest of the team stood defensively behind us.

The doors slid open with the usual flashing light and Sharon stepped out confidently, stepping forward to hug Steve then Tony, nodding to everybody else.

It was clear where her loyalties lied.

Ross stepped out, glancing from the assembled team to Bucky. He looked uncomfortable, I noted, as he stepped up next to Sharon.

“Captain, I’m Deputy Task Force Commander Everett Ross of the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. The CIA is currently working with us on the Winter Soldier case,” Ross said. “I’m here to take the Winter Soldier into custody, by force if necessary.”

Bucky shifted, poised ready to run or fight but Steve reached out, resting his hand on his arm.

“That won’t be necessary,” Steve said, his voice tight. “But  _Sergeant Barnes_ is not leaving this building.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” Ross said.

“You have no right to arrest him,” Natasha said. _“He’s_ done nothing wrong.”

“The Winter Soldier is credited with dozens of kills over the past fifty years, I’ve read the reports,” Ross snapped.

“If you’ve read the reports then you know that Sergeant Barnes was taken as a prisoner of war in both 1943 and 1945. Captain Rogers rescued Sergeant Barnes and a number of other allied soldiers in 1943, Sergeant Barnes was not so lucky the second time around,” I said, forcing myself not to wince at both Steve and Bucky’s grimaces. “Over those 69 years Sergeant Barnes repeatedly faced the most horrific torture you could put a man through. If you’ve read his file then you _know_ the methods they used to keep him under control. The total, repetitive, mind wipes, the memory insertion. He’s the _victim_ here.”

Sharon stepped forwards.

“Sir, with all due respect, we _don’t_ have the full story. Given Sergeant Barnes’ service record in World War Two alone, we should hear him out, it’s the least we can do,” She said logically.

“We are not a judge and jury, Carter,” Ross snapped.

“No, we are not. But as Agent Lewis stated, Sergeant Barnes was a Prisoner of War, the longest person _ever_  held as a Prisoner of War. To my knowledge, this country tends to frown upon prosecuting their War Hero’s and POWs.,” Sharon stated.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tony’s lips twitch slightly.

Ross studied her for a full minute before turning back to Bucky and Steve, the latter giving his best _I’m so very disappointed in you_ look.

Ross looked away from Steve and sighed. “I suppose holding the interrogation here rather than at Fairfax wouldn’t do much harm,” He compromised.

“Let’s move down to Conference Room, it should be more suitable,” Steve suggested, his voice laced with faux politeness nodding towards the elevator.

Ross nodded, tucking the file he was carrying under his arm stepping into the elevator, Sharon, Steve, Bucky, Nat and I following closely.

We stepped out onto the Public floor, moving straight into the hardly used Conference Room.

Ross sat one side and Bucky took the hint and sat opposite him.

Bucky looked up at Steve nervously and Steve squeezed his shoulder.

“You’re safe. Darcy, Nat and I will be right next door,” He assured him.

Bucky nodded.

“I’m good,” He said, but the apprehension was clear in his voice.

With a final glare at Ross, I lead the way out of the room, moving into Ops to bring up the Conference Room on the Monitor, a little green light in the corner of the screen told me that Phil, Bobbi and everyone else still in the Common Area, was watching the same feed.

“I just want to ask you a few questions, James. Is that okay?” Ross asked.

Bucky didn’t answer.

“You’re entitled to a lawyer. Would you like one?” Ross asked.

“No.” Bucky shook his head.

“Right,” Ross started. “Can you confirm your name?”

“James Buchannan Barnes,” Bucky stated. “My name is Bucky.”

“And Bucky, when were you born?”

“March 10th, 1917.”

Ross nodded, opening his file.

“What do you recall of your capture in October 1943?” Ross asked.

Bucky hesitated for a second.

“We were taken to a Camp in the Alps, we were set to work on building something… I don’t remember what it was. It was overseen by a Colonel, he often killed the men if they weren’t efficient enough. I think… I think the prisoners killed him, made it look like an accident.” Bucky scrunched up his face in concentration as he tried to remember the details.

“They took me after that… To the other unit. He interrogated me. Zola. He experimented on me. Injected me with… he called them serums. Steve came, he got us all out. He got us out.”

Next to me Steve stood, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Silently I reached out and slid my hand into his.

“So, you received a variation of the super soldier serum in 1943?” Ross asked.

“Yes,” Bucky replied. “It’s how I survived the fall.”

Glancing up Steve was the only one who didn’t look surprised.

“What happened after you fell? What’s the first thing you remember?” Ross questioned.

“German soldiers found me… They took me to a base, I don’t know where. I lost my arm in the fall. The Germans patched me up. I don’t remember how long I was in that cell, they told me Steve was dead, that they had won the war, my file says I was there years before Zola came back.

“When he did, he gave me the new arm, I remember them explaining how it worked… I killed one of the lead scientists that gave it to me,” Bucky stated. “That was the first time they wiped my mind. I don’t remember much after that. It… blurs together. Bits missing.”

“Consultations from various Doctors confirm this is likely,” Sharon said, stepping forward from where she was leaning against the wall to hand Ross a tablet. “There are several studies on various forms of electro-shock therapy that back this up.”

Ross looked down at it for a second before setting it aside.

They went through several more questions: _how much were you able to do of your own free will? How many people did you take out that you weren’t explicitly ordered to? What did they do with you between missions? How many missions were there? How did you know Natasha? How did you go from Nazi’s to KGB to Hydra?_

As the questions drew on Bucky grew tenser and tenser, his answers became shorter, more clipped until eventually Ross declared them done, that he had enough information and that Bucky could go for now.

Bucky shot out of the room, straight into the stairwell, Steve stepped into the corridor to follow but Ross chose that moment to step out of the Conference room.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff, a moment?”

Steve looked between Ross and the stairwell with a torn expression.

“I’ll find him,” I assured Steve, squeezing his hand reassuringly before dropping it, I saw his slight smile of thanks before I disappeared into the stairwell.

“Jarvis, where’s Bucky?” I asked once the door had closed.

 _“Sergeant Barnes is just stepping out onto the roof,”_ Jarvis replied.

I nodded, taking the stairs two at a time, until I reached the very top, pushing the door open, stepping out onto the roof, I stopped dead in the doorway.

Bucky stood on the far side of the roof, leaning against the rails that circled the building several hundreds of feet above the ground.

Realistically I knew that there was some kind of energy, almost like a force field, that surrounded the balcony a floor below, so if anyone or anything were to fall, the energy field would catch them.

The door automatically closed behind me as I moved across the roof, leaning my forearms onto the rails next to him, mirroring his position, looking out over the city.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked.

He shrugged slightly.

“Steve and Nat got held up with Ross,” I said. “We’re not going to let them take you. I know you have no reason to believe me. But I promise you, we won’t give up.”

Bucky was silent for several minutes.

“I’m sorry,” He finally said, making my head snap round to him in confusion.

“For what?”

“After DC I did some research on Steve. You were happy together. You’re good for him, he was moving on. I ruined it. I don’t want to ruin your relationship,” He said. “You probably hate me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh slightly, making Bucky’s head shoot up in alarm.

“I don’t hate you,” I said with a slight smile. “It’s weird. Ever since we found out that you were alive I’ve been convinced _that you were going to hate me._ That the minute we found you, you were going to want me gone.”

“I don’t hate you,” He echoed. “Why would I want you gone?”

“Because Steve was yours. I’ve heard the stories about your relationship, it was… special, beyond special. All I’ve bought him is –”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Bucky and I jumped, looking round to see Steve stood in the doorway, a slight scowl directed at me.

“—issues,” I finished pointedly.

Bucky sniggered slightly next to me.

“Here comes the lecture,” He murmured.

Steve moved over to us.

“You’ve solved more issues than you’ve created,” He said. “If it really bothered me I wouldn’t still be with you. It doesn’t bother me, I love you.” He looked to Bucky. “I want you both to know this now. I still love _both_ of you, nothing has changed that. I won’t choose between you.”

“You should,” Bucky muttered, looking away. “Choose. I’m not the person that I was back then. I’ve done things, hurt people. Don’t say it wasn’t me, because it was! I remember strangling Howard Stark, I remember breaking his wife’s neck. I remember hurting Natalia and the other girls. I remember hurting you on the hellicarrier.”

Steve hesitated slightly.

“We don’t blame you, Buck! We don’t blame Natasha for what she did before S.H.I.E.L.D, we don’t blame Clint for what he did under Loki’s control…” Steve trailed off, struggling to find the right words so I stepped in.

“I think what Steve is trying to say is you aren’t alone here. There are people who understand,” I said softly.

 _“Deputy Task Force Commander Ross wishes to speak to you all,”_ Jarvis broke through the silence, his voice slightly muffled by the breeze.

“Where is he?” Steve asked.

 _“He and Agent Carter are in the Dining Room,”_ Jarvis said.

“We’ll be right there,” Steve replied, before turning back to Bucky. “Nothing that you don’t want,” He reminded him. Bucky gave a grim smile and nodded. Pushing himself off the rail.

We took the stairs back down the Common Room where everyone was waiting.

Ross rose to his feet.

“Agent Carter and I have discussed Sergeant Barnes’ case _thoroughly.”_ He shot Sharon a disgruntled look. “She has persuaded me to not take Sergeant Barnes Fairfax, _but_ neither of us have the authority to ignore the warrant for his arrest. I’m to return to DC and brief my CO and to recommend we drop all charges against Sergeant Barnes. But in the meantime Sergeant Barnes is to remain in CIA custody.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest but Sharon stepped forwards.

“As a CIA Agent, if I were to remain here, then _technically_ Sergeant Barnes would be in CIA custody,” Sharon said.

Steve looked over at Tony who nodded slightly.

“Then what?” Steve asked.

“It’s out of my hands,” Ross said.

Steve glanced at Natasha who tilted her head in consideration.

“How long is this all likely to take?” She asked.

“It could be a day, it could be a week,” Sharon replied.

“Bucky?” I asked. “Are you okay with this?”

Bucky looked once again startled to be asked his opinion but gave something between a shrug and a nod.

“Sure,” He said sounding indifferent. “It’s fine.”

“If there are any other concerns regarding Sergeant Barnes’ case, you can go through our lawyers.” Pepper stepped forwards, holding out a piece of paper. “I’m sure you’ll find their contact information more than adequate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All hail Pepper Potts!! 
> 
> Okay so, Sharon Carter wouldn't happily arrest Bucky Barnes after his history with Peggy and his relationship to Steve and Natasha, the Howling Commando's and their legacies look out for their own. Bobbi also wouldn't want to arrest him, she might be good at following orders but she's still pretty damn awesome, also, Coulson would never give that order, c'mon!


	9. It Wasn't Your Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If we could get Deputy something or other Ross on our side then maybe, just maybe we actually stood a chance at getting Bucky out of this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday but just completely forgot!   
> **Chapter Warnings:** Nightmares. Flashbacks. Panic Attack. Blood. Steve deals with his guilt.

Ross left promptly afterwards, thankfully taking the Strike team with him.

Sharon looked around awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, for all of this,” She said softly.

“You’re just doing your job,” Steve said, handing her a bottle of beer, Sharon and Natasha both laughed slightly, Sharon raised her bottle in thanks.

“Aunt Peggy would be so mad,” Tony commented, a bottle of soda in his own hand.

“She is,” Sharon confirmed. “The times when she understands what’s happening. She reads the papers, watches the news. God, does she rant.”

I smiled slightly.

“Who?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Peggy. She’s my great-aunt,” Sharon said.

Bucky looked up at Steve in confusion.

“I thought – I remembered she said she didn’t have siblings anymore,” Bucky said, questioning his memories.

“She had a brother,” Sharon said. “My Grandfather, Michael, he died during the war. My Grandmother was pregnant with my Dad at the time.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration for a moment.

“I think… I think she told me that once,” He murmured, then shook his head uncertainly.

We moved down to the conversation pit as they continued their conversation and I curled up on the couch, my head resting on Steve’s lap.

I closed my eyes with a content smile on my lips.

_If we could get Deputy something or other Ross on our side then maybe, just maybe we actually stood a chance at getting Bucky out of this._

I let the gentle murmurings of their conversations loll me to sleep.

.

_I was standing in the middle of the street again._

_Hydra Agents moved towards me. Eight? Ten of them moving towards me in formation._

_I reached for my gun, raising it towards the first one I pulled the trigger. Once I started I didn’t stop._

_I fired again and again and again until the last one hit the floor._

_Looking down at the nearest guy I froze, the gun slipping out of my hand._

_It wasn’t a Hydra Agent._

_I screamed._

I shot upright on the couch with a scream, my arms tangled in a blanket, making me panic more.

Someone’s arms caught me from behind.

“Darcy stop, you’re good. You’re safe,” They said. _Steve?_

“Cookie, open your eyes, it was just a dream,” Someone else said. _Clint?!_

My eyes snapped open.

Clint was kneeling on the floor on the floor, his hands around my wrists to stop me from hitting him.

I looked around to see that it was Steve who had wrapped his arms around me, practically pulling me onto his lap.

“You with us?” Clint asked.

I nodded and lowered my hands back into my lap and I realised that it wasn’t a blanket that I’d got myself caught up in, it was Thor’s cape.

“Darcy? Breathe,” Steve murmured softly, and I forced myself to take a deep breath, glancing up as everyone else was still sitting around the conversation pit, looking away awkwardly.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, drying my eyes and turning my face into Steve’s shoulder. “Ow.” I winced as a cushion hit the side of my head, I looked back up to see Natasha raising an expectant eyebrow at me.

I grabbed the cushion and tried to throw it back at her only for it to hit Sam instead.

Nat smirked.

Groaning slightly in frustration I dropped back against Steve as Clint pulled himself to his feet, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before dropping back down the other side of Sam, turning his attention back to the TV.

I shifted in Steve’s lap, tugging Thor’s cloak around me better, turning away from everybody but Steve and Bucky.

“Are – are you okay?” Bucky asked quietly, looking at me with something between surprise and something I couldn’t read.

“I’m fine,” I replied shortly. Bucky’s eyes flickered up to Steve and he smirked slightly, I could practically see Steve rolling his eyes in exasperation behind my head. “Still think I’m so whole and perfect?”

Bucky’s smile softened into a more apologetic expression.

“Maybe not,” He said. “Maybe it doesn’t matter though.”

Now it was my turn to smile slightly.

If he _actually_ believed that. Then he could be alright.

.

The evening drew on and Tony ordered Thai food, it’s not like anybody actually could be bothered to cook. Dinner passed with chatter of conversation, Bobbi and Sharon were catching up, Phil switched between speaking with Clint and Natasha to staring at Bucky and Steve with wide, affection filled eyes.

Once everything was cleared away, it was decided that Phil would stay in Clint and Natasha’s spare room, Sharon and Bobbi would share the guest apartment, and everyone headed off to their respected rooms.

Bucky and I moved to the couch while Steve insisted on making hot chocolates.

“Are you okay?” I asked tucking my legs underneath myself, although Bucky hadn’t been the most talkative person since he’d moved in, but he hadn’t said a single word since asking me if I was alright nearly five hours ago.

“’M fine,” He replied. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” I echoed, Bucky’s lips twitched slightly.

“Was your nightmare a memory?” He asked, I hesitated slightly, not expecting the question.

I shook my head.

“Not really. Was yours?” I shot back.

“I was falling.” He nodded. “Stevie was there and then I was falling and my arm and they –” Bucky cut off as something in the kitchen smashed and we both shot to our feet.

“Steve?” I called out in concern. He was ridiculously coordinated with the serum, he hardly ever dropped anything.

Steve didn’t reply, just hunched over to pick whatever he dropped up.

Bucky and I exchanged worried looks as there was another, smaller, clatter and a sharp intake of breath.

Bucky hopped over the back of the couch as I rushed around the edge, moving straight into the kitchen.

Steve was hunched over on the floor, a broken mug of hot chocolate on the floor, his fist pressed against his mouth as he tried to stifle is sobs.

“Oh, Steve,” I breathed, stepping over the worst of the broken mug, crouching next to him, my hand on his back. “Steve? What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” He choked out. “Fuck, I’m sorry!”

I glanced up at Bucky who looked just as confused as I did.

“Ssh, it’s okay,” I murmured. “What happened? What are you sorry for?”

Steve glanced up at Bucky before looking away in shame.

“It was my fault – I was there. ‘Nd I couldn’t reach. I wasn’t good enough. It’s my fault he fell. ‘S all my fault. ‘M sorry!” He blubbered.

My mind flashed back to the Press Conference after DC, sitting in the corridor with Steve sobbing about how it was his fault.

Before when he said that he didn’t save him. I thought Steve had meant that he left him with Hydra, that he didn’t know he was alive or rescue him. I didn’t think he blamed himself for Bucky falling, and therefore everything that had ever happened to Bucky afterwards.

I looked up at Bucky desperately but he was already moving to Steve’s other side, wrapping his arm around Steve’s back.

I took the opportunity to try pry the shards of broken mug out of Steve’s fist, noting the cuts that were already healing up.

“Let it go,” I murmured, trying to open his left hand that was clutching a larger piece of china that had split through his skin. He made no indication to have heard me.

Bucky grabbed his Steve’s wrist tightly.

“Let it go,” He growled, pressing his fingers into his arm. Steve gasped, his hand opening suddenly, the piece of china hitting the floor. “Come on. Up.” Bucky clutched Steve tightly, practically lifting him to his feet, guiding him over to the sink.

Steve hissed slightly as Bucky rinsed his hands, glancing down at me.

“It’s okay. I’ll clear this up,” I murmured.

Steve didn’t need me right now. He needed Bucky and that was okay.

Bucky grimaced, shutting off the tap and wrapping Steve’s hand in a towel, guiding him over to the couch.

“Stop it,” I heard Bucky say gruffly.

Steve said something that was too quiet for me to hear as I collected up the larger pieces of china, tossing them in the trash, trying to avoid the hot milk.

“Steven Grant, listen to me.” I hesitated at Bucky’s hard tone. No sign of apprehension, no hint of fear. “I might not remember everything from before with perfect clarity. But I damn well remember signing up. I remember agreeing to fight with you. I remember agreeing to that mission. It was my choice, Steven. We all knew the risks. We all signed up for it. It wasn’t your fault. You understand me? It wasn’t your fault!”

I heard Steve give a painful sob, his words jumbled and muffled as Bucky hushed him

“It’s over. I’m here,” Bucky murmured. “We’re okay.”

I took a steadying breath grabbing the dustpan and brush, tuning out of their conversation. I swept up all the china, tossing a towel on the floor, to clear up the now cooled hot chocolate.

Tossing the towel in the trash, I pushed myself to my feet, glancing over to the lounge where Bucky had his arm around Steve whose head was resting on Bucky’s chest, his shoulders still shaking, but whether he was crying or not, I couldn’t tell.

As if sensing my gaze Bucky looked round, nodding his head for me to come over.

Biting my lip hesitantly I moved around to them, brushing my tears away, pretending to be at least partly put together.

They both looked wrecked, I guess we all were.

Sixty-nine years’ worth of tears were still trailing down both of their faces, but neither of them seemed to care. My resolve crumbled at the sight of them and I bit my lip to stop it wavering.

Steve reached out tugging me into his lap, so I was practically on Bucky’s too, none of us said a word, none of us needed to. We just quietly drew comfort from each other’s presences and for now; that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally get their first of many group hugs!  
> Okay, I'm going to post a snippet as soon as I've posted this. So go check it out!!


	10. Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sergeant Barnes is a victim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm posting this now because of Christmas, if you celebrate Christmas then Happy Christmas! If you don't, Happy Holidays!  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Talks about Bucky's time with Hydra.

I woke up with a content sigh, rolling over wincing as a knee dug in my side making me shift slightly.

Shifting, turned out to be a bad idea as my stomach dropped. I had just enough time to open my eyes in panic before I fell off the couch and my ass hit the floor.

_Why the fuck was I on the floor? Why the fuck had I – we slept on the couch?_

Memories of last night came back to me but I didn’t have time to think about it as I looked up to see both Steve and Bucky looking down at me in amusement.

“Oh shut up,” I muttered, trying to pick myself up off the floor, which was not a graceful process when your feet are tangled up in a blanket.

I stumbled slightly, falling back on top of Steve very unceremoniously.

Steve and Bucky both laughed as I untangled my feet grumpily, tossing the blanket towards Bucky’s head.

“Oh bite me! I haven’t had my coffee yet,” I grumbled, pushing myself back to my feet, slightly more graceful this time, giving it a second for my head to catch up with me.

Snatching the blanket back from Bucky I wrapped it around my shoulders like a cape as I moved to pour out three mugs of coffee.

“Jarvis, what is everyone doing for breakfast?” I asked, practically inhaling my drink as Steve and Bucky came to accept their own drinks. Bucky’s hair an adorable mess...

_Wait… Are you allowed to call the Winter Soldier’s hair adorable? Why was I calling him adorable anyway?_

_“Agent Carter is making breakfast for everyone in the Common Room. I believe she has news from Deputy Task Force Commander Ross,”_ Jarvis replied, effectively interrupting my train of thought.

Steve’s elbow jerked off the breakfast bar, hissing as he spilled coffee down his arm.

“For fucks sake Rogers,” Bucky sighed, reaching for a towel, flicking it against the side of Steve’s head before dropping it in his lap. Steve snatched it up, mopping up his spilt coffee, a familiar pink tinge to his cheeks.

Not bothering to get changed we all headed straight up to the Common Room, coffees still in hand.

Somehow, despite the painfully early hour we were still the last ones to arrive.

We moved straight to the kitchen where Malia barrelled straight into my legs.

“Jesus, Kid! Where’s the fire?” I said, setting my coffee aside to pick her up.

“Jarvis said you had news?” Steve asked Sharon, getting straight to the point.

“Good morning to you too Steve,” She said with a roll of her eyes, handing he and Steve a plate of breakfast.

“Good morning,” He said briskly. “What news do you have?”

Malia, apparently bored with me already squirmed in my arms and I set her on the floor, watching as she ran over to Bobbi.

“Ross would like me to tell you all before it becomes public at 10am,” She said looking between us all. “I don’t know how or when they came to the decision before you ask. All I know is that the United States government nor the United Nations will be prosecuting Sergeant Barnes for any crimes committed in relation to the Winter Soldier Case. He’s innocent.”

There was a moments silence as everyone processed the news before Steve laughed gleefully, turning to hug Bucky tightly.

Bucky snapped out of his daze and hugged him back, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder before looking up with a stunned grin.

Reaching out he caught my arm, tugging me into their hug and I laughed as I was squashed between the two of them.

_He was innocent._

_The government wasn’t coming for him._

_He really was safe._

The three of us stayed intertwined as Sam and Clint clapped Bucky on the back, and Tony called an impromptu toast (of coffee).

Natasha stepped forwards, kissing Bucky then Steve on the cheeks, winking at me.

I leant back into Steve’s chest with a grin.

_Now, we focussed on recovery._

_._

Just as Sharon said at 10am sharp President Ellis stepped up in front of the camera at the white house to make his address, we gathered around the TV to watch.

 _“Good morning,”_ He said. _“In April earlier this year, we witnessed one of the largest terror attacks this country has ever faced. Thousands of people around the world lost their lives. In the midst of the reports of devastation, in the middle of news reals showing destruction in this very city we saw something. Someone._

_“I don’t think there’s anybody in this country who doesn’t know the story of Captain America and the Howling Commando’s or perhaps you’re more familiar with the story of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes._

_“They, like sixteen million other Americans, enlisted in World War Two. Willing to sacrifice their lives, for their country. For the future. Sixteen Million of them enlisted. Four hundred and sixteen thousand, eight hundred of them never came home.”_ The president hesitated and I silently reached out to take Steve’s free hand, Bucky clutching his other.

 _“Sergeant James Barnes was one of those who never came home. For the past sixty nine years, most of the world has believed him dead. Perhaps it would have been kinder for him to have died that day. After a long investigation into Sergeant Barnes’ disappearance, we have once again seen the worst in humanity. I must warn you, that what I am about to tell you, you_ will _find distressing._

_“I can now officially confirm that Sergeant Barnes is alive. After he fell off the train in the Alps in early 1945, he by some miracle, survived the fall and was apprehended by Nazi soldiers. Over the next three years the kindest thing Sergeant Barnes received was a prosthetic arm with a kill chip implanted inside. The Nazi camp that held Sergeant Barnes transferred him into Hydra’s custody._

_“After years of integrations, with the most horrific methods of torture. Hydra used a particular brutal… technique, derived from electro-shock therapy. They strapped him to a chair and sent a wave of electricity through his head, it was so strong, with technology so advanced, that it started wiping his memories._

_“Sergeant Barnes was exposed to this repetitively over the past seventy years. This took away his memories, every fibre of who he was got replaced with different ways to kill people._

_“Hydra violated him in every way possible. We cannot and will not hold him accountable for what has happened over the past 70 years. Sergeant Barnes is a victim.”_

I glanced over as Steve pulled Bucky’s shaking form into his arms, but he didn’t let go of my hand.

_“Sergeant Barnes has been through things that no man should ever have to go through and he has made it out the other side. All I can say is the UN and US are working together tirelessly to find the people accountable. They will be brought to justice._

_“And Sergeant Barnes.”_ Out of the corner of my eye I watched Bucky raise his head. “ _If you are watching this. Then on behalf of this country, I personally apologise. We have failed you tremendously. I hope that one day you can forgive us. I pray that your recovery is quick and as painless as possible, and as much as you might doubt it right now. Your experiences have not diminished your status as our hero, our respect for you has only grown. I’m sorry. I'm so very sorry.”_

Bucky gave a shuddering sob and I slid round the other side of Bucky, rubbing gently circles between his shoulder blades.

President Ellis nodded in thanks before turning away, stepping off of the stage and the screen went back to the news.

_“That was President Ellis, speaking out for the first time on Sergeant Barnes being discovered alive. To clarify: The United States nor the United Nations will be prosecuting Sergeant Barnes. Who is the world’s longest Prisoner of War. Being held captive for sixty-nine years. Nobody from the Avengers Tower has issued a comment as of yet…”_

I looked over at Pepper who nodded slightly.

“Jarvis, send invitations to the usual media companies. We’ll be holding a Press Conference at 3pm, they need to arrive by two. The Press Conference regards Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers,” I instructed, reaching for my tablet to draft up an opening explanation. “Make it clear that I will be the only person speaking on behalf of The Avengers.”

_“Certainly.”_

_._

After lunch disappeared their own ways. Bobbi and Coulson had to head back to wherever their secret base was and Sharon had to go back to the CIA now that she was no longer “detaining” Bucky.

But Steve, Bucky nor I moved.

The two of them were still huddled together, Steve murmuring gently reassurances to a non-responsive Bucky as I sat silently next to them, my fingers flying across my keyboard.

Natasha warned us this might happen. That when emotions get to high for Bucky, he’d just shut down. He’d still be awake and conscious, he’d be perfectly fine, just not in a position to move around and talk until his body caught up with him. She also warned us that he’d likely have a hell of a headache after these episodes.

So Steve wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, two bottles of water sat on the table ready for when he was. But until then, Steve and I were content with waiting.

Eventually out of the corner of my eye I watched Bucky sit up, Steve’s arm around his shoulders still, but I could hear Bucky’s voice, he was okay.

“How’s it coming?” Steve asked as I re read what I’d written for a third time.

“Good, I think it’s all sorted. I was just wondering if either of you would write a statement for me to read out?” I asked. “You don’t have to, but it might help.”

Bucky stared at me with wide eyes, and shook his head slightly, seemingly before he could stop himself.

“Can I not – I just – it’s that –”

“It’s okay,” I cut him off before he could start panicking again.

“Sorry,” He murmured.

“It’s okay,” I repeated.

“I’ll write something up,” Steve said. I rolled my eyes as he reached for the notebook and an actual fountain pen.

 _He’s so old fashioned._ I thought fondly.

He contemplated he words for a second before he started writing furiously.

“Keep it short please, I don’t want to be reading a three page statement about your issues with politics again,” I said.

_That was not fun._

“It was only three pages?” Bucky asked in surprise.

“I made him cut it down. It started off as nine. I’m pretty sure he just wrote smaller though.”

Bucky’s lips twitched slightly at the thought.

Steve did the mature thing and stuck his tongue out at us making both scoff in unison.

“Wow, real mature Punk.” Bucky rolled his eyes and Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling slightly.

While I was prepping for the PC and Steve was writing up a statement, Bucky had pulled up the image of his arm on his tablet again.

“Did Stark really mean it when he said he would do this?” He asked, hope heartbreakingly evident in his voice. Steve’s pen hovered over the paper.

“Yes,” He said truthfully. Bucky hesitated.

“I want him to start as soon as possible,” He said, determination lacing through a new found courage in his voice.

 _“Sir says he can fit the convertor this evening if you wish. And then your arm a further ten days afterwards if that suits you, Sergeant Barnes?”_ Jarvis said, making it clear that he was eavesdropping.

“I want to do it tonight.” Bucky nodded adamantly.

“Are you sure Buck?” Steve asked, looking up from his notebook.

“I’m sure.”

 _“Sir is asking you to report to the medbay at sixteen hundred hours then,”_ Jarvis said. _“He would also like to remind you that if you change your mind; then that’s okay too.”_

“Thank you Jarvis,” Bucky said. “But I’m not going to change my mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S FIRST DATE I HAVE WRITTEN??!!  
> The statistics that President Ellis read out about Soldier numbers in World War Two, are accurate. 16.1 _million_ Americans enlisted to fight, 416,800 of them never made it home.


	11. Clear The Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s still Agent Lewis. Or Doctor if you’d prefer. But no, I’m not ashamed of being disabled..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you celebrate New Year now then Happy New Year!  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Ableism. Relationship angst. The bigoted press needs to be stopped.

At one o’clock I headed back down to our apartment, taking a quick shower, drying and curling my hair. I dressed in a black suit before heading back up to the common room for Clint to do my makeup.

“Are you leaving your leg uncovered?” He asked.                      

“I think so. I mean everyone knows about it now so...” I trailed off with a shrug.

“Everyone thinks they know – close your eyes – you could tell them that the rumours are bull,” He said.

“Would you? With your hearing aids. I mean everyone knows now. But before, if someone had guessed. Would you have lied?” I asked. 

“No,” He said, it sounded as though he was smiling.

“Exactly. I’m done hiding it. People deserve better than that. Pepper said that I can confirm it so I’m going to,” I said.

“Good,” He said. “Open your eyes – if that’s what you want to do. Then do it. I think Pepper is setting up part of SI to create things for people with disabilities, aids, tech, prosthetics ‘nd stuff. Tony keeps asking me to guinea pig some more hearing aids.”

I smiled slightly at the thought.

“I thought it was weird when he made me try out an electric chair the other day. I’ve learnt not to question what he builds though,” I said. “It’s was a badass chair.”

Clint laughed, handing me a lipstick and a mirror pointedly.

“Then you’re done,” He said as I put it on. Red. Perfect. 

“Thank you,” I said, stowing it in my pocket to touch it up later.

“I want that back later,” He said. I rolled my eyes. “I mean it Darce. Don’t think I haven’t noticed my red lipsticks disappearing.”

“I’m offered at the insinuation,” I said, not even trying to hide my smirk.

“Sure.” He smirked.

“It’s fine. I don’t think this is Sam’s shade. It’s definitely not Natasha’s,” I teased. Clint froze half way through packing everything away.

“Why would I care if it’s Sam’s shade?” He asked looking panicked.  
I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

“Seriously? I’m not blind,” I said. Clint stared at me with wide eyes.

“It’s not – we’re not-”

“Hey.” I reached out to rest my hand on his arm. “It’s okay. You’re all consenting adults. I’m sorry I overstepped,” I said, watching in relief as Clint’s entire body visibly relaxed.

“Thanks,” He said, giving with a small smile, slinging his arm around my shoulders.

 _“Agent Lewis, your ten minute warning,”_ Jarvis said. _“Also, Agent Romanoff has emailed you her statement.”_

“Thanks J. I’m on my way,” I said, heading back over to the conversation pit where Steve rose to meet me.

“Looking great, Doll,” He said, kissing my cheek lightly so as not to mess up my makeup. 

“Thanks,” I said. I turned to Bucky. “I’ll come up to the medbay when I’m done.”

He smiled slightly.

“Sam and Clint are going down with you. They’re the least likely to be recognised,” Steve said.

_That explains why they’re wearing suits..._

“Good luck,” He said.

“Thanks.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek, smirking at the red lipstick it left behind, before following Sam and Clint into the elevator.

 _This is going to be fun._  
.

I stepped up to the podium and the press buzzed as they caught sight of my leg.

“Good afternoon,” I started, my voice echoing around the room, silence falling over the reporters. “As you all know both President Ellis and the United Nations both gave statements earlier today. Declaring that all charges Sergeant Barnes has faced have been dropped. The Avengers, are of course, very pleased with this outcome but I am sure that you all have some questions and I am here to clear the air, so to speak.” 

Every reporter in the room raised their hands eagerly and I laughed slightly.

“If the microphone could be passed to the reporter at the back. We’ll just go around?” I said. 

I watched an assistant pass the microphone to them.

“Good afternoon,” they said. “How is Sergeant Barnes?”

“He’s not 100% obviously. But he’s spent two nights here and this it’s not been easy for anybody. But right now he’s okay and is currently getting ready for his new arm,” I explained briefly.

The reporter smiled.

“That was my next question,” The said. “It came to light recently that you were the girl who received the SI prosthetic prototype, I was wondering if Mr Stark was also designing one for Sergeant Barnes, an arm that is.”

“Yes. I got my first Stark designed prosthetic about two years ago now. I got a replacement two days ago. Sergeant Barnes is getting a convertor fitted tonight, and if all goes to plan he should be able to get his actual arm fitted in about ten days. His arm would be using the exact same technology as my leg. I believe Ms Potts is planning on talking more about this at the upcoming Stark Industries presentation,” I said. Nodding to the next reporter.

“How did you lose your leg?” He asked.

I clenched my jaw slightly at the question.

“I will answer that question to stop rumours spreading but in future I hope you show more manners in future. Believe it or not it’s not considered polite to ask a disabled person why they’re disabled. A lot of people would take offense at that,” I said, the reporter glared at me as thought I’d offended _him._

“But, to answer your question: I have a condition called Elhers-Danlos Syndrome, it’s a connective tissue disorder. I had surgery to try and stabilise my knee’s dislocations when I was fifteen, but it went wrong. When I was sixteen they told me they either amputated or I’d never walk again; I made a decision,” I explained. “That is as much detail as I will go into at this time. I will post some more information on my personal social media accounts, for those of you wanting to know more about my condition. Next question?”

“Can you tell us what happened on the street on the seventh?” She asked.

“My driver and I were attacked as I left a meeting at Roxxon on the seventh of August. My driver, Derek, was killed by one of the operatives, who we later found out to be Hydra. I was drugged and Sergeant Barnes saved my life after I fell unconscious. He gave me medical attention and once I regained consciousness he bought me home,” I said, trying to make it sound simple.  “The Avengers Initiative and Stark Industries thoughts are with Derek’s friends and family. He was a good man and an even better friend.”

The reporter nodded in thanks before moving on.

“A swat team were seen entering and leaving the tower yesterday. Can you tell us why they were here?”

“They _were_ here to arrest Sergeant Barnes on orders from the CIA. They received orders to stand down later on and they left,” I explained.

“Why did you hide your prosthetic for so long, Miss Lewis? Were you ashamed of it?”

I bristled slightly but forced myself to give a polite smile. At the back of the room I saw Clint roll his eyes as Sam glared at the reporter, it made my smile slightly more genuine.

“It’s still _Agent_ Lewis. Or Doctor if you’d prefer. But no, I’m not ashamed of being disabled,” I stated clearly. “Part of the contract I signed with Stark Industries said that I couldn’t tell anyone for fear of other companies trying to get hold of this technology. I was allowed to tell close family and friends, and they all had to sign a contract saying they would keep it private, hence why it was never in my S.H.I.E.L.D. file. If anyone has an issue with that then they can take it up with Tony Stark, it was his decision and he was well within his rights to make that decision.

“However,” I said. “Growing up disabled I understand people’s apprehension, their shame and fear about being disabled. I apologise to _them_. You don’t need to be ashamed. Maybe partly why I hid _was_ fear, fear that I’m sure you can understand. So I’m sorry. I hope that you can forgive me for that and I’m glad now that I no longer have to hide this and can now speak freely about it.

“But to all of the abled bodied people watching this and having an issue with me being an amputee or hiding it, I do not extend my apology to you, because it really has nothing to do with you at all.”

There was a shocked silence that hung over the room and I looked back to Clint.

_Did I overstep?_

Clint however was grinning brightly, giving me a massive thumbs up as Sam next to him was silently cheering.

“Does that answer your question?” I asked pleasantly.

The reporter stumbled slightly, looking flustered.

“Er right, yes thank you.”

“Excellent. Next question?”

“How are Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff handling Sergeant Barnes’ return?”

“I actually have personal statements from both of them. I’ll start with Agent Romanoff’s,” I said, pulling up the file on my tablet.

_“When I first met Sergeant Barnes, I didn’t know his true identity. I didn’t even know who Bucky Barnes was. When I think of who he was to me then I’m reminded of nothing but one of the most negative periods of my life. Had I been reunited with him before my time with the Avengers I would have had a much different outlook on this situation. But now all I and the rest of the team can do is focus first and foremost on his recovery and then to the future, it is currently our highest priority.”_

I smiled slightly, short and sweet- _ish._

_Thank you Natasha._

“And Captain Rogers’ statement.” I unfolded the piece of paper from my pocket

_“Before the war Bucky was all I had after my Mom died. Then I gained the Commandos, Peggy and Howard, but I still had Bucky. He followed me, that once skinny kid from Brooklyn, not Captain America, across Europe. I thought he died in 1945, watching him fall from that train was like the world ending. All the battles I’ve fought, that remains to be one of the wort. The only fight worse was fighting him, on top of the hellicarriers._

_“I woke up in 2012, to nothing. My friends were gone, my family was gone, Bucky was gone. Over the past two years I have gained a family in my team, but there was always something, someone, missing._

_“It took me a long time to adjust to the changes of the twenty first century and I haven’t suffered nearly half of what Bucky has._

_“Right now I hope that between us all we can slowly help reintroduce Bucky to the world. I ask for people’s patience in this time and for you to remember to look for the best in people despite what people are enduring.”_

I folded the paper back up, tucking it into my StarkPad case.

“As Captain Rogers said it’s going to take time for Sergeant Barnes to readjust to living his own life. We ask for time, patience and privacy at this time. Thank you.” I nodded to the press once more, picking up my StarkPad moving towards the door that Sam pulled open for me.

I switched of my mic as I stepped out of the room.

“Was it alright?” I asked nervously.

“Alright?!” Clint swept me off the floor into a hug, making me squeal slightly in surprise. “Those reporters were beyond jackasses. You did amazing!” He said setting me back on the floor, letting Sam sling an arm around my shoulder.

“What sort of person asks questions like that? Since when is it acceptable to go up to someone and ask them how they lost a limb? Like…” Sam trailed off with an angry sigh.

“It happens more than you’d think,” I said with a shrug, Clint nodding in agreement.

“But –”

“Seriously, questioning it will just give you a headache,” He said.

“C’mon, you and Steve can sit and rant about the injustices in the world while I take a nap,” I said, stepping into the elevator, the doors sliding closed. Knowing in reality that I wouldn’t get a nap or a decent conversation out of Steve until after Bucky was out of surgery. “Jarvis, the med-bay please.”

Jarvis didn’t reply but the elevator started to rise.

I leant into Clint’s side for a minute, taking comfort in Sam’s arm still securely around my shoulders.

“You know, Nat would like me to remind you, that our apartment is always open if you wanna get away from it all,” Clint said. “We won’t take sides, but if, when, it gets all too much. We’re here.”

I took a sharp breath, turning to press my face into his shoulder for a second.

_This was already too much._

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“I mean it Darce, you’re allowed to take a break, to want an out. Steve and Bucky will both understand,” He said firmer.

I nodded into his shoulder, pulling myself upright as the elevator doors opened and I pulled myself together, putting on a fake smile that got me a disapproving look from both Sam and Clint.

“’Ntee Darcy!”

I caught Malia as she barrelled down the corridor.

“Hey Cariño, where’s your Mom?” I asked, setting her on my hip.

“Trabajando,” She replied. _Working._

“Do you know where Uncle Steve is?” I questioned. She pointed towards the door that she’d run out of.

Stepping down the corridor and into the room I sighed softly, Steve was hunched over his sketch book, every inch of his posture screamed tension and discomfort. Natasha was sitting the other side of the room, her tablet in hand, glaring disapprovingly at Steve.

I sat silently in the seat next to Steve, making him look up at me with a surprised smile.

“How was it?” He asked.

_Of course, he wasn’t watching._

I pushed the hint of hurt away and smiled.

“It was fine.”

Clint cleared his throat pointedly.

“Okay, there were a few bigoted jerks, but nothing I couldn’t handle,” I assured him, pressing my lips softly against his, pulling away with a laugh as Malia squirmed in my lap in protest.

.

As it turned out Bucky’s surgery was almost done, apparently doing the procedure once before made the whole thing a lot easier.

Chelsea and Betty wheeled the bed back into the room, re hooking him up to different machines.

“He’ll be fine,” Chelsea said first. “He’ll wake up quicker now that we’ve disconnected the anaesthetic because of his metabolism, the surgery went without an issue. I would suggest not having this many people in the room when he wakes up. Knowing his history with medical procedures, he probably won’t react well to a group, I suggest two people max.”

Malia stretched towards her Mom and Chelsea picked her off my lap, pressing a kiss to her head.

I went to stand up but Steve caught my hand as Natasha rose to her feet.

“You stay, we’ll wait outside,” She said as Betty, Clint, Sam and Chelsea all stepped outside. Nat hesitated by Bucky’s side, touch his right hand slightly before taking her leave, shutting the door behind her.

Steve set his sketchbook aside, resting his head in his hands for a moment before looking back up at Bucky, who for the first time since I’d met him; looked peaceful.

I tugged at the ends of my hair nervously, trying to stop my thoughts whirring.

“Don’t.” Steve caught my hand, drawing it away from my hair. “Don’t do that,” He murmured.

I opened my mouth to apologise but caught his raised eyebrows and stopped myself.

“I don’t wanna lose you Darce,” He said. “I mean it. I don’t know how this is going to work. But I wanna make it work. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” I admitted softly.

He smiled in return.

The steady beep of Bucky’s heartbeat monitor chose that moment to spike and Bucky shot up in bed, trying to yank the cannula violently out of his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  Trabajando - Working - Spanish  
> As for Malia's language, I've looked into growing up bilingual and that children can often mix the two languages together unintentionally. That's what I'm going with here.  
>  **[Darcy's Outfit](https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/25051341657555894/)**


	12. Stupid Shit Steve Has Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would these Supersoldiers ever stop breaking my heart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally can't believe how far this series has come... It wasn't supposed to be longer than twenty chapters and now the third instalment has 60 000 words.   
> **Chapter Warnings:** None.

_“I don’t wanna lose you Darce,” he said. “I mean it. I don’t know how this is going to work. But I wanna make it work. I don’t want to lose either of you.”_

_“I don’t want to lose you either,” I admitted softly._

_He smiled in return._

_The steady beep of Bucky’s heartbeat monitor chose that moment to spike and Bucky shot up in bed, trying to yank the cannula violently out of his nose._

* * *

 

Steve and I lurched forward off the chairs, to either side of his bed.

“Bucky? Hey, Buck you’re safe. It’s okay,” Steve said, his hands hovering above Bucky's arms, not wanting to startle him even more.

Bucky froze at Steve’s voice, his eyes snapping between the two of us, his hands falling from the tube on his face as he realised where he was.

“Do you want me to take this away?” I asked gently, gesturing to the cannula that was hanging uncomfortably across his face, not actually doing anything anymore.

Bucky nodded.

Moving slowly, I gently un hooked it from over his ears, pulling it away from his face. I turned off the oxygen, laying the tube on top.

Bucky went to rub his face but hesitated at the IV lines.

“It’s just saline,” I assured him softly.

He looked from the drip to Steve with heart-breaking confusion.

“No ice?” He asked quietly. Steve shook his head quickly, laying his hand on Bucky’s arm, careful of the tubes and wires.

“No, no ice Buck. Never again,” he promised.

Bucky looked doubtful.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked. He nodded, looking slightly out of it still. “Groggy? Yeah, I was too. Chelsea wants to come and check your stats. Can I let her in?” He nodded again.

I gave him a slight reassuring smile, moving to open the door.

“Chelsea? We’re good,” I said, she smiled slightly, handing Malia back to me as she stepped into the room.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked with a friendly smile, clicking something on her tablet.

“’lright,” he said, his voice slightly sluggish.

“Any discomfort in your left shoulder? Phantom limb pain? Anything like that?” She asked.

Bucky shook his head then hesitated.

“It aches.” He gave a vague gesture to the bandages and Chelsea nodded.

“As far as I know that’s normal.” She looked to me and I nodded. “Any headaches? Nausea?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Drowsiness?” She asked.

“A bit.” He nodded hesitantly. As if unsure as if he were allowed to admit that.

“That’ll just be the anaesthesia. I suggest you sleep it off, when you wake up you should be good to go. We just want to make sure there are no side effects,” she explained.

I looked down at Malia as she pulled my dog tags out from under my shirt and I caught them right before they went into her mouth.

“No. Eso no es para comer, Cariño,” I chided gently, getting a strange sense of Deja-vu. _No. That’s not for eating, Sweetie._

I let them fall back against my chest, Malia’s face screwed up as she prepared to scream and Chelsea quickly pulled her out of my arms.

“Just let Jarvis you know if you need me. I think I need to find this one some entertainment,” she said, bouncing Malia on her hip, before the breakdown could ensure.

“Thank you,” Bucky said.

“My pleasure.” Chelsea smiled, wincing as Malia screamed in her ear. With an apologetic look she carried the wailing toddler out of the room.

“How’d your Press Conference go, Кукла?” Bucky asked, sounding more awake than before.

_Кукла, Кукла, Кукла… Definitely Russian, but I couldn’t place it._

“It was alright,” I said.

“You said there were a couple of issues?” Steve asked, I pulled a face at the word issues.

“Not issues, just a couple of bigoted reporters.” I shrugged.

“What did they say?” Steve asked, concern lacing his voice.

I rolled my eyes, knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied til he watched it himself, I reached for the TV remote, pausing as I realised we had a perfectly good AI.

“Jarvis, can you replay the Press Conference please?” I asked.

_“Certainly.”_

Steve’s face visibly tightened as the questions went but it was Bucky who exploded first.

“What sort of question is that? It’s got nothing do with that son of a bitch!” He snapped, Steve and I both looked up in surprise at his outburst. “And not to be self-centred or anything, but isn’t this Press Conference supposed to be about me?” He asked, glaring at the TV in distaste.

“They ask _me_ the questions because I’m a pretty little girl from the big tower and they’re all sexist, privileged assholes,” I said, Steve looked between us with equal anger.

“It’s like back in the day when people’d ask why I was sick all the time,” he put in. "They’d ask like it was something I chose. I don’t mind asking me what it was like. But asking me _why_ I was like that…” Steve trailed off.

“Didn’t you punch – I don’t remember his name, some kid, in our class – you punched him because he asked you why you were sick all the time, why you couldn’t be normal? I remember you socking him and asking how normal that felt,” Bucky asked uncertainly.

Steve laughed slightly at the memory.

“I did. Clarence was his name,” he said.

“Clarence,” I scoffed at the name. “I kicked a guy in the gym and broke his collar bone when he told me I was too disabled to be there.” I smiled slightly at the memory.

Bucky dropped back against his pillows with a groan.

“Oh God, there’s two of you,” he said.

“Hey, he’s way worse than I am at the stupid, dangerous stuff,” I protested.

Steve froze, his eyes wide, shaking his head vigorously as Bucky slowly turned to me.

“What did he do now?” He asked, looking to Steve whose eyes were, fixed pointedly on the floor.

“What did who do now?”

I glanced up, Nat was leaning against the doorframe.

“Stupid shit that Steve has done?” I asked.

She grinned manically, curling up on the end of the couch.

“Has he told you about our last mission before S.H.I.E.L.D. went to shit, how he jumped out of a plane _without_ a chute,” she said.

My head snapped round to Steve.

“You did _what?!”_

“It was fine, it was into the ocean, my body could handle it,” he said, seeing nothing wrong with this statement.

I looked to Bucky for help but he dropped back on the bed, pulling a pillow over his face to muffle the long string of curses in five… _six_? Different languages.

I snatched a cushion off the chair next to me, throwing it towards Steve who caught it easily.

“Just because your body _can_ deal with it doesn’t mean you _should_ do it. My body _could_ deal with drinking all of the coffee in the tower. It doesn’t mean that I should do it,” I stressed. “Why would you not take a chute?”

“It was a stealth mission.”

I looked to Natasha desperately and she shook her head slightly.

“We all had chutes,” she said.

“I’m not the _only_ one to have done stupid crap mid battle. You, Natasha, commandeered an alien space ship mid-flight in the battle of New York,” Steve shot back.

Without warning Bucky threw the pillow that was over his face towards Natasha.

I stared in amazement as she was caught by surprise and it hit her in the face.

She dropped it onto the couch next to her with a deadly glare, but Bucky just raised an eyebrow almost challengingly.

“Don’t think being in a hospital bed means I won’t kick your ass, Barnes,” she warned. Steve shot her a sharp look but she paid no attention to it.

Bucky however smirked.

“I could put you down even with only one arm,” he said, his voice cocky, I wondered if that’s what he used to sound like; before.

“As interesting as that would be,” I cut in. “Why don’t we wait until everyone is fully healed before challenges are made.”

Natasha gave a dramatic sigh. “You ruin all my fun, Mалютка.” She pouted.

“I aim to please,” I said with a sarcastic smile.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Clint,” she said pushing herself to her feet. “Who I need to go find. He owes me a _favour.”_ She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, watching in amusement as a pink blush spread across Steve’s cheeks.

“Some things never change,” Bucky muttered, turning his attention back to the TV.

“What? Natasha wanting to fight you or Steve blushing constantly?” I asked.

“Both,” he said. Then hesitated. “She didn’t always want to fight,” he said quieter than before. His entire demeanour shifted. “I made her. I made her _want_ it.” He looked away in disgust.

“You didn’t have a choice,” Steve said softly. “Neither of you had a choice.”

“She doesn’t blame you,” I added, raising my eyebrows in surprise as Bucky scoffed venomously.

“Yes she does,” he said. “A part of her is always going to blame me, no matter what she says.” The way he said it, his voice filled with quiet acceptance, it made me want to call Natasha back here, make her tell him he was wrong, but I couldn't; because he was probably right.

_Would these Supersoldiers ever stop breaking my heart?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  No. Eso no es para comer, Cariño. - Spanish - No. That’s not for eating, Sweetie.  
> Кукла - Russian - Doll


	13. Black Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I watched in fascination as Bucky’s arm calibrated, it was strange watching the plates move, but not feeling the sensation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm so sorry I forgot to update last week but it's all be a little bit crazy at the minute as I'm sure a lot of you are aware.  
> So yeah, so I'm going to be posting another chapter during the week to make up for it!   
> **Chapter Warnings: **None. :)****

The next ten days were… interesting.

Between the three of us, someone always woke screaming in the middle of the night, the other two rushing to their side.

I don’t think we made it through an entire day without a panic attack, it wasn’t even just the three of us, Natasha, Tony and Clint would occasionally abruptly leave the room, coming back some twenty minutes later looking slightly out of it.

“It’s strange,” I said to Sam, it was just the two of us in the gym, standing opposite each other on the sparring mats.

“What is?” He asked.

“One minute he’s fine, Steve says he’s like he was before and then the next minute he shuts down, becoming a totally different person. I’ve never seen PTSD do that to a person before,” I said, ducking backwards to avoid his fist.

“It’s different with him,” he said. “It doesn’t make any of our PTSD any less valid, it’s just that our PTSD comes from our trauma, _our_ memories. Bucky’s is slightly different because his PTSD is kicking in while he’s trying to recover memories. The days where he seems okay, are good days, but something triggers him and… Well, you know how that works.”

“Yeah,” I said gruffly, swinging my leg too hard making me stumble.

“I thought Natasha trained you to fight?”

I spun around to see Bucky and Steve in the doorway, but by their relaxed demeanour, they hadn’t heard our conversation.

“She did. Well, various coaches taught me to kick box before I lost my leg. Then when Tony upgraded my leg Clint and Nat got me back into it. But my old leg wasn’t vibranium, it was heavier. Today’s the first day I’ve been cleared to come back in here.” I shot Sam a dirty look, but he shrugged unapologetically. I turned back to Bucky. “I’ll be fine when I get used to the new weight.” I shrugged.

He nodded slightly with a look that might have been understanding.

“You’re not terrible though,” he said.

I laughed slightly.

“I get by.” I nodded.

He studied my leg, his gaze curious, his head snapping up as the doors open and Tony waltzed in followed by an unexpected familiar face.

“Charlotte!” I exclaimed in surprise. Rushing forwards to hug her. “What are you doing here?” We pulled apart.

“I got a call about a new prosthetic project,” she said, I looked down at the black case in Tony’s hand. “I heard you got a new one?” She looked down at my leg appreciatively.

“Yeah, it’s more sensitive, lighter,” I said, bending my knee, watching the plates shimmer in the light.

“Looks good,” she said with an impressed nod.

I turned back to everyone else.

“This is Charlotte Lahey, she was my physiotherapist when I got my new leg. Charlotte, this is Sergeant Bucky Barnes and Master Sergeant Sam Wilson.” I gestured between the three of them.

“It’s an honour to meet you both,” she said. Getting respectful nods in return.

“So, you’re ten days is up,” Tony said turning to Bucky, setting the case on top of the table, he flicked it open, revealing a shiny vibranium arm.

The most obvious difference between this one and his old arm was the plates, before the plates were rectangular, when they moved they left large gaps between each of them. Now the plates were smaller, like mine they melded together, so even when they moved it left no gaps.

“Tony,” Steve said sharply, his eyes fixed on the upper arm, one of the plates was noticeably different from the rest, rather than shiny silver, a black star sat on his shoulder, in the same position as the red one had.

“I asked him to add it,” Bucky said softly, he reached out carefully then suddenly pulled his hand away, looking to Tony for permission.

“Go for it, it’s yours,” Tony said.

Bucky reached out, his fingers brushing over the plates, drifting up to the black star.

Reaching up, my fingers ghosted over my own star tattoo, I glanced at Steve and smiled slightly.

Stars were apparently a thing with us.

Bucky looked up at Tony, nodding slightly.

Tony grinned, lifting Bucky’s arm from the case, setting it into position.

The arm snapped against the convertor, Bucky pulled a face before smiling slightly as he got used to the new weight.

“Ready to turn it on?” Tony asked.

Bucky caught his lip between his teeth and nodded.

“Jarvis,” Tony prompted.

I watched in fascination as Bucky’s arm calibrated, it was strange watching the plates move, but not feeling the sensation.

Bucky’s face twisted slightly, I knew he was struggling with the sudden overload of sensations.

Tony slowly reached out, resting his hand on Bucky’s metal forearm, Bucky jerked away in surprise, looking down at his arm with wide, glassy eyes.

“I could feel it,” he said with a strangled gasp, looking between Steve and me.

“Feels pretty cool right?” I asked with a knowing grin.

“Pretty great,” he murmured, looking back to his arm in awe as he turned his hand over, watching the plates move.

“You should have more feeling and mobility than before,” Tony said.

Bucky nodded, touching his left and right hands together.

“It’s warm,” he breathed. He of course already knew all of these things, but actually feeling it; that was a totally different thing.

Charlotte stepped forward.

“May I?” She nodded to Bucky’s arm.

He nodded slightly.

“If you want me to stop, if it gets too much or anything. Just let me know, okay?” She said, waiting for his nod before she took his hand. “Tell me if there’s any discomfort, or lack of feeling in any places.”

Bucky wiped his face on his other shoulder, as Charlotte ran her hand up his forearm, turning his arm over, moving all his fingers, before letting it go.

“Can you raise your arm up above your head?” He did. “And rotate your shoulder back? Good.” She picked up the lightest dumbbell from the rack. “Can you hold this? And rotate your wrist?”

Bucky followed each of her instructions without a fault.

Gradually they worked up to heavier weights until it go to the stage where he was matching Steve in strength.

“I don’t think there’s much I can do,” Charlotte said, watching him go at a punch bag with an impressed grin. “I wouldn’t go straight into combat missions without some retraining. But, medically speaking, you’re fine.”

Bucky caught the bag as it swung on the chain.

“Thank you,” he said, looking up at Charlotte, holding out his hand.

“It’s been a pleasure,” she said, shaking his hand. “If you have any issues with your arm, Miss Potts has my contact details.”

She hugged me again before taking her leave and Tony headed back to his lab.

Bucky looked back down at his arm and gave another amazed laugh.

“Wanna see what this thing can do on the mat?” He asked, looking to Steve.

“Think you can take me?” Steve said with a slight laugh.

“I’ve _always_ been able to take you, Punk!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as for the star on Bucky's arm I figured that he definitely wouldn't want a red one, because that's a big Soviet thing. But as Darcy said, stars are a thing for the three of them, so he had to keep the star in one way or another.
> 
> With the current political state, not just in America but around the world. I hope you're all okay and I'm sending loads of hugs and love your way!


	14. Pulling Punches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you say be patient, I will kick you again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I'm terrible. I said I would post this earlier on in the week but things are still crazy, so I am going to post the next chapter immediately after this one.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Panic Attack.

“And that’s my queue to leave,” Sam said, pushing away from the stack of mats that he had been leaning against as Steve and Bucky stepped onto the mat.

“If you see Clint, remind him that he promised to spar with me,” I said. Sam gave a mock salute, grabbing his hoodie and headed out of the door.

“I don’t ever remember making that promise.”

I looked up to see Clint hanging between two ropes making me roll my eyes.

“You definitely did,” I said. “Do you have something against using doors like a regular person?” I asked, watching as he swung forwards, rolling twice through the air, before landing perfectly on the floor in front of me.

“That’d be boring,” he said, standing up, brushing off his hands.

“Show-off,” I grumbled, as he stepped away to stretch.

Steve and Bucky turned back to each other, taking their positions.

Steve swung first, a simple blow that Bucky blocked easily. Bucky swung his metal fist towards Steve, but like I did earlier he overcompensated on the weight of his arm and stumbled slightly, glancing over at me in realisation.

“See, not that easy to get used to,” I teased, before letting Clint tug me onto another mat.

“Then start getting used to it,” Clint said.

We sparred for I don’t know how long before I swung my metal foot around, knocking him to the floor with what I thought was controlled force. Taken by surprise Clint hit the mat and I pressed my metal knee into his windpipe, pressing his hands either side of his head.

“I think I’m used to it,” I said, pushing myself off of him, brushing myself off with a satisfied grin.

“I think I have concussion,” Clint groaned, pressing his hand to the back of his head where my foot caught him.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I said, taking a swig of my water bottle.

 _“Agent Lewis, Agent Barton is showing signs of head trauma,”_ Jarvis said. I dropped the bottle down and dropped back on the mat.

“How hard did you kick him?” Steve asked, moving to Clint’s other side.

“I – I – I didn’t think–”

I looked down at him in panic.

“Jeez, Darcy breathe,” Clint said, looking up at me groggily.

“It’s the vibranium,” Bucky said, from where he was standing behind me. “Stark said something about being able to hit harder and I – we, I guess – wouldn’t be able to feel how hard we hit because the vibranium absorbs the vibrations before the convertor picks them up.”

“You’ve never used vibranium before,” Steve said. “It’s gonna take some getting used to.”

"Why the fuck didn't Tony mention it?" I exclaimed as Clint pushed himself up with a slight grimace. “I’m so sorry,” I said, shifting further away from him.

Clint rolled his eyes, catching my arm, pulling me into hug that I didn't return.

“It’s fine, we’re good. Though maybe _for now_ we should stick to you kicking the bag,” he said, using Steve and I to lever himself off the floor.

We propped him against the table and I rushed over to the wall, pulling an icepack out of the freezer, taking it back to press against the back of his head.

He took it from me and waved our hands away.

“Seriously, I’m fine. I’ve sparred with Nat before she learnt to pull her punches. I’ll live,” he said.

Steve stepped back, turning back to Bucky, who followed his lead, stepping back onto the mat as I pushed myself to sit next to Clint on the table, watching the two fight.

It was weird… It was almost symmetrical.

“Who trained with Steve after he woke up?” I asked quietly, trying to distract myself from the nausea that was trying to twist itself to the surface.

“Nat did,” Clint replied. “After New York. She’d drag both our asses to the gym every morning trying to get us to snap out of it. They fight the same.”

“It makes sense I suppose. Bucky trained Steve before the serum, then he trained Natasha and then she trained Steve,” I mused. “There’s something else though, a style that’s different.”

Clint shrugged slightly.

We watched as Bucky flipped Steve onto the mat, pinning him easily. Steve tapped out and Bucky pulled him to his feet.

“Peggy,” Steve said as they moved towards us. “Peggy taught me to fight when I first enlisted. She taught me how the smaller person wins the fight.”

“Huh,” Clint said, like all of his questions had just been answered. “That makes so much sense.”

I gave him a weird look before shaking my head.

“If everyone is done trying to kick each other’s asses I am going to take a shower,” I said, picking my hoodie and water bottle up.

I gave a tight smile before fleeing to the elevator.

I dropped back against the wall, forcing myself to take a deep breath as everything seemed to hit me at once.

_“Agent Lewis–”_

“Don’t Jarvis!” I snapped harshly.

_I hurt him. Fuck!_

The elevator stopped on our floor and I rushed through our apartment, through the bedroom and into the bathroom.

I turned the shower on, stripping down and stumbling inside, sliding down the wall as I gave a sob.

_Breathe! In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out._

I tugged my ponytail out, running my hands through my hair, tugging on the ends.

_I could’ve – I did – I can’t –_

_I can’t breathe!_

_Was someone saying something? Jarvis maybe? I couldn’t hear._

Steve was suddenly crouched in front of me, reaching towards me, pulling my hands away from my hair. I could see his mouth moving but I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the ringing in my ears and the thunder of water coming down on us.

He pulled away and I sobbed at his loss as he disappeared from my view.

The water cut off and Steve was in front of me again, wrapping a white fluffy towel around my shoulders as I curled in on myself.

“Darcy, you need to breathe,” he said firmly. “Breathe with me. Breathe in, good, and out. And again, in… and out. In… and out. There we go,” he murmured.

My head started to settle as I managed to breathe, I fell into his side as I sobbed.

“Sssh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he murmured, running his fingers through my wet hair. He pulled away slightly, tilting my head to look up at him. “What’s going on, Doll?” He asked, but from his tone of voice I guessed he already knew, he just wanted me to admit it.

“I hurt him,” I cried. “I could hurt you too.” I tried to pull away but Steve wrapped his arms around me again. Not letting me get anywhere. He pulled me to my feet.

“That's not going to happen. C’mon.” He tugged me out of the shower, helping me dry off before helping me into a dry pair of shorts and one of his button down shirts, leaving the towel over my shoulders, to stop my hair from dripping down my back.

He steered me out of the bathroom, through into the living room where Clint and Bucky were sitting at the breakfast bar.

Both of them freshly showered, holding cups of coffee.

I stopped, trying to turn back to our bedroom, but Steve caught me.

“Hear him out,” he said, pressing his lips against my forehead. “I’m going to change my shirt.”

He stepped back into the bedroom.

Bucky slid off of the breakfast bar, sliding past me with a wink before disappearing into his own room.

My eyes flickered up to Clint who was watching me expectantly. My eyes darted away guiltily.

I heard Clint give a dramatic sigh, moving in front of me.

He went to wrap his arms around me but I jerked away.

“C’mon Cookie,” he said, his voice softer than I expected, with no hints of anger or annoyance.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said weekly.

Clint smiled slightly.

“It was an accident. We were sparring, it happens. If I’d have slipped and hit you, would you hate me?” He asked. I shook my head slightly.

“You would have hated you though,” I murmured. He laughed slightly.

“Yeah, so I get you. But I’m fine. We’re good,” he said. “Now can I please have a hug?”

I looked up at him, scrubbing my face dry on the end of my sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

Clint rolled his eyes.

“C’mere,” he said, wrapping his arms around me, I buried my face in his shoulder. “We’ll work on it, I promise. It’s just gonna take some getting used to it.”

“If you say be patient, I will kick you again,” I said, my voice muffled by his shoulder.

Clint sniggered slightly, then pulled away, keeping one of his arms around my shoulders leading me back to his coffee.

Apparently eavesdropping both Steve and Bucky chose that moment to reappear, it looked as though Steve had taken an actual shower, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.

“We can work on it,” Bucky promised, sitting on my other side as Steve walked past, pressing his lips to my hair, before going to pour more coffee.

I looked at Bucky in confusion.

“I know a thing or two about using vibranium as a limb,” he said. “I remember a bit about how I got used to fighting with it.”

I nodded slightly. “I’d like that,” I said. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that went well.  
> But yeah, vibranium absorbs vibrations and Darcy isn't used to that, so it makes it harder for her to realise how much force she is using when kicking something.


	15. Just Rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m fucking my girlfriend, America Chavez, on Clint’s old bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised...  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** None.

Over the next few days I spent more time in the gym than out.

As promised Bucky, Clint and Steve were _re_ teaching me to fight and between the three of them they managed to do it in a way that was guaranteed not to hurt them.

Bucky was hesitant at first, which was unsurprising, the last time he taught a girl to fight… It didn’t end particularly well.

But once he got over his hesitance, he helped me. I wouldn’t class it as sparring. He only used his left arm or Steve’s shield and I only used my left leg, that way I could guarantee no real damage.

Getting used to the new sensors on my leg was one thing. Getting used to the vibranium on my leg hitting the vibranium of his arm or the shield was just weird.

It was like a shock of some kind. Like electricity shooting down my leg, but not in a painful way, it was like a rush of almost adrenaline. It was amazing.

It had been twelve days since Bucky had bought me back to the tower, two weeks since he saved my life and as per usual we were all in the gym.

Because we take the “physical exercise is good for trauma” advice to the extreme in this tower, which even Sam can’t pull us up on, because he’s equally as bad.

 _“Agent Barton. Miss Bishop is in the elevator. Would you like me to bring her to this floor?”_ Jarvis interrupted.

“Is Lucky with her?” Clint asked casually, as if Steve didn’t have him in a headlock.

_“She does.”_

“Yes, bring them up here.” He grinned, twisting slightly to the side, flipping Steve easily over onto the floor, sauntering towards the door as Kate and Lucky stepped in.

Kate dropped the leash and Lucky rushed forward to jump on Clint who had dropped to the floor, letting the dog stand on his chest, licking at his face.

Nat dropped the knives she was throwing on the table and moved to hug Kate, dragging her into the room.

“Kate, considering Clint’s being too rude to introduce you. This is Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson. Sam, Bucky. This is Kate Bishop, Clint’s protégée. She’ll take over being Hawkeye when Clint does something stupid and gets himself killed,” Nat introduced, before whistling sharply, smiling as Lucky trotted obediently to sit at her heels. “And this guy, this is Lucky. Officially Clint’s dog, but really he’s Kate’s.”

She scratched the top of Lucky’s head as Clint rolled off the floor to re-join us.

Lucky, apparently bored of them, trotted over to Bucky, looking for new people that he didn’t already know.

Bucky looked slightly unsure for a second, before offering his metal hand to the dog, smiling slightly as Lucky licked at the reflective panels.

“So, what exactly are you doing here?” Clint asked, looking at Kate.

“Rude,” she scoffed. “You haven’t been answering my texts, also rude by the way. We were at the apartment and America said I should come and check if you were still alive. I did. We’re nice like that.” She gave an innocent smile and Natasha bit her lip, trying not to laugh, making Clint groan dramatically.

“C’mon, in _my_ apartment? Really?!” He looked a little green.

“It’s not really your apartment, you haven’t stayed there in years,” Kate pointed out. “It’s ours now. We’re taking it over. I bet you don’t even have a key for it do you?”

“Katie-Kate, I’m an assassin. I don’t need a key to get through a door!” Clint pointed out, but Kate rolled her eyes.

“Have fun trying to pick the deadbolt on _our_ door. Also, your bed is way comfier than the crap one you put me up on,” she continued, watching in amusement as Clint looked like he was going to have an aneurism.

“Wait, what is going on?” I asked, looking between the three of them in amusement.

“I’m fucking my girlfriend, America Chavez, on Clint’s old bed,” Kate said bluntly. Natasha couldn’t stop herself anymore and burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, Kate! I can’t know that!” Clint groaned. The rest of us laughed at his distress.

"We bought a new mattress!" 

“So, America is your girlfriend now?” Natasha finally asked.

“We decided friends with benefits wasn’t working.” Kate shrugged. Nat nodded in understanding.

I turned to Bucky.

“When I said people were more open with relationships and sexuality’s. This is exactly what I meant,” I said.

“I’m starting to get that,” he said with a chuckle.

“I hate you all,” Clint muttered, no heat behind his words as he folded his arms petulantly.

“Sure you do,” Kate said, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Did you just come to torture me, or was there another purpose of your visit?” Clint asked.

Kate’s bright grin slipped off her face and she shuffled nervously.

“I er – I watched your press conference the other day, Darcy. It was pretty badass –”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. – and I read a lot of the S.H.I.E.L.D. files after the dump.” She looked up at Bucky and Steve apologetically.

“Kate, what do you know?” Clint asked, all humour gone from his voice.

“I don’t know anything for definite, it's just rumours. But Natasha told me about her coming to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the trigger words that someone used to re brainwash her, I sort of guessed that they used the same sort of procedure on Sergeant Barnes.” She hesitated, when nobody corrected her she went on. “America has a friend, Kitty who – what do you know about mutants? And what are your opinions of them?” She side-tracked.

“They’re enhanced. It’s a genetic mutation,” I said. “Some people that have the X-Gene live without it affecting them, and some develop what they call mutations. They can be anything, telekinesis, metal manipulation, shapeshifting. Or physical mutations, tails, hair colours, skin colours and markings; there used to be a blue senator, Hank McCoy.” They all stared at me in surprise, making me roll my eyes. “I’m a PoliSci Major. Mutant rights have always been a big political issue. It was part of my dissertation, also, I spent my teen years studying genetic mutations.”  

Kate nodded appreciatively.

“They’re people,” Steve said simply. “They deserve exactly the same rights as everybody else.”

Kate’s lips twitched slightly and she nodded.

“Okay, good. Well America has a friend Kitty, she’s a mutant, she can walk through walls, and it’s awesome! But Kitty like a lot of mutants didn’t go to regular school. There’s an academy, a school, outside Westchester. It’s a safe place for mutants, especially children. Their head teacher, Charles Xavier is a psychic, he supposedly has the most powerful mind in the world,” Kate explained.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Clint prompted when she bit her lip and hesitated again.

“Xavier has been known to help people restore their memories after their minds have been wiped. He’s been able to break through walls of brainwashing and give a man back his mind before,” Kate said. “I don’t know if it would help. If he could make a difference in this situation, but I thought I should let you know.”

I looked over at Steve and Bucky, who were both staring at Kate in surprise.

Steve had a glimmer of hope that shone clearly through his shock.

“I’ve heard of it,” I said softly. “The school, and Xavier. Xaviers School For Gifted Youngsters. They’re supposed to be good people.”

Bucky was still staring at Kate with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Buck?” Steve prompted softly.

Bucky jerked slightly before giving a tight smile.

“Can’t make things worse by trying,” he said with a slight shrug.

“I’ll look into it,” Nat said, getting a small smile in return.

“Thank you Kate,” Steve said with a friendlier, more relaxed smile. “Please, thank Miss Chavez too.”

“I hope he can help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that this isn't a get out clause! Just... bare with me please.


	16. Bucky Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside were a couple of books, an old family photo album and an old bear, I carefully pulled it from the box, it was a little dusty, but still looked the same.  
> It was unsurprisingly in immaculate condition. Jake worshipped this bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late again... I'm sorry!   
> It's not my favourite chapter, but here ya go.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** None.

Kate spent the rest of the day with us, we moved up to the Common Room where Malia was delighted by the presence of a “puppy”.

Natasha sat at the bar, her fingers drumming against the counter with her phone pressed to her ear.

Everyone else sat around the Conversation Pit while Clint filled Kate in on what’s been going on, the non-media friendly version.

She didn’t seem nearly as surprised as was deemed healthy.

Lucky, ended up following Bucky around like a lost puppy, much to Clint’s dismay, which then meant Malia followed them both around.

I sat next to Bucky on the couch, Malia on my lap, Lucky’s head resting on Bucky’s lap, soaking up all of the attention happily as Bucky scratched behind his ears lazily.

Steve sat the other side of me, his fingers brushing through my hair absently as we watched whatever was playing on the TV only half paying attention as Malia babbled away to me, waving her Captain America plushie in my face.

“’Ncle Steeve,” she said, giving me the toy, I grinned, holding it up next to Steve’s face.

“Yes! It’s Uncle Steeve!” I said, watching in amusement as he rolled his eyes. “We need to get you a Bucky Bear,” I said thoughtfully, handing her the toy back.

“Buckee?” She asked, looking at Bucky who looked equally as confused.

“A Bucky Bear?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, they became a thing, Jake –” I broke off, Steve’s hand drifted up my hair, resting on the back of my head and I saw Chelsea tense over her book. I cleared my throat slightly. “Jake had one.”

I scrunched up my face thoughtfully for a second, before passing Malia over to Steve, standing up abruptly.

“Darcy?” Chelsea said in familiar concern.

“I’m fine, I just thought of something. I’ll be right back,” I said, stepping up the steps.

I jogged down the stairs two at a time, into the corridor, instead of stepping into our apartment, I pushed open one of the two doors opposite.

I hadn’t done much with my “comfort” room as Clint was calling them, that's probably for the best as Tony was talking about remodelling our floor to fit in a third for Bucky.

There were a couple of boxes that I’d never bothered to unpack, several stacks of books and an armchair that I’d dragged in from my old apartment on Thor’s floor.

Moving over to one of the boxes labelled _Jake_ I hesitated for a second before opening it.

Inside were a couple of books, an old family photo album and an old bear, I carefully pulled it from the box, it was a little dusty, but still looked the same.

It was unsurprisingly in immaculate condition. Jake worshipped this bear.

I pressed it to my face for a moment, breathing it in.

It smelt like dust and cardboard from the box but it was still there. It was still his. And now; now it would be hers.

Smiling to myself slightly I reclosed the box, pushing myself up to my feet, carrying it back upstairs, I stepped back into the Conversation Pit, ignoring the concerned and curious looks I got from everyone, I sat back in my place, Malia crawled back in my lap.

She looked at the Bucky Bear in adorable confusion.

“This.” I held up the bear. “This was your Daddy’s.”

“Daddy?” She asked.

I nodded. “That’s right. He gave it to me when I needed it, but I think he’d want you to have it.”

I hesitantly held it out to her. Over the top of her head I saw Chelsea give a watery smile.

Malia reached out with a tentative little hand, closing it around the bears arm.

“Daddy’s?” She asked.

“Yeah Cariño.” I blinked back tears as she smiled down at the bear as I sunk back into Steve’s side, I felt him press his lips to the top of my head.

Malia bounced the two bears, one in each hand. She put the Cap toy on Steve’s lap and held out the Bucky Bear to Bucky.

“Buckee,” she said, the e extended for seconds longer than necessary, it made Bucky’s lips twitch slightly. “’s you!” She said, shaking the bear in his face.

“Una ves fue,” he said. _It was once._ He caught the bear before it could hit Lucky in the face.

Malia took that as an invitation to crawl onto his lap. I reached out to stop her but Bucky waved me away, steadying Malia with his biological hand.

Malia however had other ideas and reached out towards his metal arm, Bucky slowly held out his metal hand towards her.

She ran her tiny hand over his palm and giggled, twisting her head to look at the plates.

“Shiny,” she said. “Brillante.” She repeated in Spanish.

“Sí,” he murmured.

Malia looked over at my leg, her fingers ghosting over the plates just below my convertor, it tickled strangely.

“Like Auntie Darcy!” She said brightly.

“Al igual que tía Darcy,” he chuckled. _Just like Auntie Darcy._

Malia stood up on his leg, reaching up, her chubby fingers poking at the star on his shoulder.

She giggled as he bounced his knees with a tender smile.

I leant back into Steve’s arms, two plushies on my lap as I watched Malia squeal in delight as Bucky bounced her.

Natasha dropped over the back of the adjacent couch, settling between Sam and Clint.

“Xavier checks out, so does the school. There’ll be a lot of kids but –” She looked at Bucky and Malia with a soft smile. “—I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue. I suggest calling him tomorrow.”

“I will.” Steve nodded.

 _“Agent Barton, your delivery is in the lobby,”_ Jarvis said.

“In the meantime –” Clint pushed himself to his feet with a grin. “—pizza!”

.

I sat on top of the lower of Nat’s uneven bars, watching Bucky throw punch after punch at the bag.

Steve was upstairs still, we left him to talk to Professor Xavier and we came down here, Bucky was doing everything he could to distract himself until the doors opened and Steve stepped in.

Gripping the bar I dropped down, flipping back dropping down to the floor, Bucky glanced up from the punch bag.

“And?” I prompted, when nobody said a word.

“He says he can’t say for sure what difference he will make. But Professor Xavier is willing to see you and try, if you’re up for it?” Steve said. “He wanted you to take your time to think about it, there’s no rush.”

Bucky nodded slightly, turning back to the punch bag without a word.

Steve glanced over at me and I gave a slight shrug, he bit his lip and nodded, moving the other side to steady the bag, saying something to Bucky too quietly for me to hear.

“I’ll be upstairs,” I sighed softly.

Steve nodded again, not taking his eyes away from Bucky.

I slid out of the room. Taking the stairs up to Nat and Clint’s apartment.

I hesitated outside of their door, wrapping my arms around myself.

_This is stupid. I’m being –_

I went to turn away but the apartment door was pulled open and Clint lent against the door frame with a small smile.

“C’mon.” He opened his arms and I stepped into them, letting him tug me inside.

“I’m being stupid,” I protested as he steered me over to the couch where Sam and Natasha were sitting.

“No you’re not,” Nat said, rubbing my leg comfortingly as I buried my face in Clint’s chest.

“Wanna talk about it?” Clint offered. I shook my head, then hesitated.

“Should I go? Not go _go_ , but give them space?” I asked.

“Have they asked you too?” Sam asked.

“Steve told us that he wouldn’t choose between us,” I said. _But someone has to choose!_

“Maybe you should speak to Bucky, see what he wants,” Clint suggested. I thought about that night on the roof.

“We started having that conversation, but Steve interrupted us,” I recalled.

“Try again, and if Steve tried to interrupt, tell him to take a walk,” Natasha said simply. I smiled slightly, realising that I wasn’t going to say anything else on the matter, Jarvis re-raised the volume on the TV and I focused on Agent Carver punching a fellow SSR Agent in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations. Spanish to English:**  
>  Una ves fue - It was once  
> Brillante - Shiny  
> Sí - Yes  
> Al igual que tía Darcy - Just like Auntie Darcy


	17. Mutant High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Children of all ages were spread across the grass, some looked like any other person, but there were some with bright coloured hair, there was one person that was completely blue, with a tail!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really beyond terrible at updating. I will sort myself out, I promise!   
> Happy Valentines Day! This isn't very romance-y, sorry...  
> All Characters in this chapter are from some variation of the comics or movies, none of the Mutants are OC's.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Talks of Ableism, discrimination, brainwashing.

Bucky made his decision the next morning and Steve smiled proudly before going to arrange a visit with Professor Xavier, coming back saying we were expected in Westchester tomorrow at noon.

Knowing that leaving the tower with Bucky only amplified the target on all our heads and given the fact that we were then putting the children at the school in the firing line, we decided it was best to bring back up in the forms of Clint, Nat and Sam.

So after _another_ restless night we took one of the larger black SUV’s from the garage and Sam drove us towards Westchester.

Clint, Sam and I sat in the front and the only thing breaking the nervous silence was Clint flicking between radio stations.

“Oh for Thor’s sake Clint, pick one!” I snapped, batting his hands away from the controls, flicking it to a rock channel.

“Aw, hell no,” Sam whined, leaning forward to flick it over to some Jazz music.

“Anything but jazz, please!” I groaned, whipping my head round as Steve and Bucky laughed. “What?”

“Nothin’, ‘s just you wouldn’t have lasted five minutes back in the day, Кукла,” Bucky said, a hint of teasing in his tone. Natasha’s lips twitched slightly at the name but didn’t comment.

_I really need to look that one up._

“Old jazz music wasn’t _as_ bad… Actually it was still pretty bad, but modern jazz music is even worse,” I said, flicking the radio back over.

“Jesus.” Nat leaned over the front seats between Clint and me, flicking the radio off “And leave it off,” she said firmly.

I sighed, dropping back against the seat as the car fell back into a tense silence.

We arrived outside the gates at quarter to twelve and the gates opened as soon as the car turned towards them.

The gravel crunched under the wheels of the car and Sam gave a low whistle, leaning forward over the wheel to get a better look at the mansion.

He pulled up at the end of the drive and we hesitantly slid out of the car, getting strange looks from a couple of children on the lawn.

_This place is amazing!_

Children of all ages were spread across the grass, some looked like any other person, but there were some with bright coloured hair, there was one person that was completely blue, _with a tail!_

“This place is amazing,” Steve breathed, echoing my thoughts.

“Indeed.”

We spun round to see an elderly man standing in the doorway, he looked tense, as though he wasn’t entirely comfortable with us being here, I gasped as my leg randomly recalibrated.

_Weird._

A red-haired lady stepped around him with a roll of her eyes.

“Erik,” she snapped. “Be nice.” She turned to us. “Excuse him. I’m Doctor Jean Grey, come in.”

We followed her inside, stepping into a large open entrance hall, a grand staircase leading up to a second and third floor.

The elderly man, Erik, rolled his eyes disappearing behind a closed door.

There was a sharp gasp and I looked around to see a group of small children peaking around a doorframe. One of the children caught my eye and I winked, she gasped and the group disappeared around the corner.

“You’ll have to excuse people’s hesitation. Students and staff alike, most of us haven’t felt safe in the presence of humans since our mutation manifested. This is our safe haven if you will, where we can be who we are without judgment,” Jean said sadly.

“We understand that. We don’t want to course any trouble,” Steve said.

Jean smiled slightly.

“I know,” she said. “In return, I want you to assure you that we don’t judge you.” Her eyes flickered between Steve, Bucky and Natasha. “Not all of us are the people we once were.”

“Thank you.” Steve nodded.

“The Professor is this way,” she said with a friendly smile, pushing open the door that Erik had walked through.

We followed her inside shutting the door behind us.

Erik was standing next to a bald man in a wheelchair, the wheelchair whirred to face us.

“Hello, I’m Charles Xavier. Welcome to my school for the gifted. I, of course, know who you all are,” he said.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Steve said.

“Of course.” Charles nodded, his head snapped round to face Bucky who took a sudden step back, his eyes locked on Erik.

“You – It was you. In Texas that day when I –” Bucky forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Bucky?” Steve caught his arm as he stumbled. “Bucky what is it?”

“Texas, JFK. 1963. Mission compromised,” Bucky said, his voice almost robotic. “Mission successful.”

I took a small step backward.

_Did he just – did he just admit to assassinating JFK?_

Steve’s head whipped round to look at Erik who was looking at Bucky somewhere between surprise and curiosity.

“What is he talking about?” Steve asked.

Erik sighed.

“I was there when JFK was assassinated, the bullet curved through the air because I tried to stop it. I believe Sergeant Barnes fired the gun,” he said, his eyes fixed on Bucky’s metal hand. He exchanged looks with Charles. “I’ll be outside.”

He slid out of the room, the door opening and closing without him touching it.

“Had I known Erik would trigger something, I would have asked him to be elsewhere. I’m sorry,” Professor Xavier said.

Bucky shook his head as if trying to shake something away, pressing his hand to his temple.

“It’s okay,” he said gruffly.

“Perhaps this would all be better without such an audience,” Charles said. “Captain Rogers may stay, but perhaps you could show the rest of our guests around Jean?”

Natasha looked slightly unsure but Steve gave her a reassuring nod. Squeezing his hand I let Clint tug me out of the room.

As the door closed behind us I sighed, looking towards the door in worry.

“He’ll be fine,” Clint murmured.

Jean showed us around the mansion and the grounds, pointing out random things and I couldn’t help wonder what her mutation was.

“It’s okay.” She smiled at me. “You’re allowed to be curious.” My eyes widened in alarm. “I’m a telepath with telekinetic abilities.” She looked to Clint and Natasha. “I’m sorry. I can’t shut it out. I try not to listen, to drown it out. But sometimes some voices or emotions stand out louder than the rest.”

“It’s okay,” I smiled at her reassuringly.

“We understand.” Natasha nodded.

“It’s just some of us have had experiences with people in our heads before. I’m not a fan,” Clint said. I squeezed his hand, offering what little comfort I could.

“I understand that too,” she said. “We realize that like not all humans want to respect who we are. Not all mutants want to respect who _they_ are either.”

A bell rung and the sound of thunderous footsteps crashed above us.

“Incoming,” she warned. “There’s no more classes for the day.”

“You finish at lunchtime?” I asked curiously, following her into another lounge labeled _Staff Room._

“Our timetable is very flexible. A lot of the children’s mutation don’t suit sitting in class all day. We cater to that,” Jean said. “The afternoons are often for tutoring the children on how to control their powers individually. For those that need it of course.”

“I got the wrong genetic mutation,” I murmured.

The door opened and a group of young adults came in, hesitating in the doorway as they realised we were there.

“These are our teachers, and former students. My husband Scott Summers, his brother Alex, Storm, Logan, Rogue, Kitty Pryde, Hank McCoy, Colossus, Bobby Drake, Jubilee and Kurt Wagner. Guys, this is Darcy Lewis, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff and Sam Wilson. The guests the Professor told us to expect,” Jean said, gesturing to each person in turn.

“Holy shit, you’re Avengers!” Jubilee said.

“Just them three,” I said, gesturing to the other three.

“You’re Darcy Lewis!” Kitty blurted out in excitement and I blushed slightly, I wasn’t usually the one people were excited to meet.

“Er, yeah I am.”

“You’re America’s friend,” Clint said to her. “It’s nice to meet you. It’s nice to meet you all.”

My eyes drifted across the group, the majority of them wouldn’t get a second look on the street but Rogue had an unusual white streak through her dark auburn hair. Hank was blue, like completely blue, so was Kurt, who also had a long tail that curled up behind him, a sharp point at the end of it.

“Likewise,” Bobby said, his eyes wide and childlike.

“Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are with the Professor now,” Jean added as an afterthought.

“I’m guessing that’s why Erik looked like someone had punched him,” Hank commented, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“It appears that Erik encountered Sergeant Barnes before, in Dallas, 1963,” Jean said.

Alex’s eyes widened slightly before he grinned brightly.

“Wait, are we saying that Sergeant Barnes killed JFK?” He asked, then winced at how that sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that. But did Erik not only not stop a metal bullet fired from a _metal_ gun but he missed the fact that the assassin had a _metal_ arm.”

“Why would that matter?” Sam asked, looking between the snickering mutants in confusion.

“Erik’s mutation is metal manipulation,” Kitty explained. “If its metal, he can control it.”

I thought back to the way my leg recalibrated when I met Erik.

“Huh.”

“I am never letting that go,” Rogue commented, a strong southern accent tinting her words.

Logan raised a bottle of beer in agreement.

I looked at Kitty curiously.

“Do you follow me on Twitter?” I asked, knowing I’d seen her name somewhere.

Kitty’s cheeks darkened, Bobby and Rogue laughed. She nodded.

“She follows all of you,” Bobby said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Like you don’t,” Rogue commented. “If you go outta here, a load of students are gonna want autographs. Siryn just cornered me and asked if the Black Widow was really here. She wants an autograph.”

Natasha smiled slightly.

“We could speak to the students while Steve and Bucky are busy?” Natasha offered.

“They would like that,” Kitty said. “C’mon, I’ll show you around.” She rose from her chair and disappeared through the door, like literally. She disappeared straight through a closed door.

Bobby laughed at our surprised faces.

“Kitty can walk through walls,” he laughed. “She can also send people back in time. That parts complicated.”

He pulled open the door and he and Rogue followed us back through the entrance hall, and through into a large dining hall, the loud chatter fell silent as they caught sight of us.

An older redheaded girl maybe in her late teens came over hand in hand with a black-haired girl who had a white blindfold across her eyes, a cane in her hand.

“It’s them I promise,” The redhead said to the little girl, coming to stop in front of us. “You’re here.”

“This is Siryn and Ruth,” Kitty said.

“You’re really awesome,” Siryn blurted out, looking up at Natasha with wide, admiration filled eyes.

Natasha grinned.

“Thank you,” she said. “I love your hair.” She gestured to Siryn’s almost identical red hair.

“Mr. Hawkeye?” Ruth said quietly, her head tilted to the side to focus.

“Hello,” Clint said, crouching down to her height.

“Can you really still fight, even if you can’t hear things?” She asked.

“I can,” he said.

“Mystique says that I can still use my powers to help people, even though I don’t have eyes to see,” she said.

“I’m sure you can,” Clint said. “I don’t have cool powers like all of you do. But I can still help people, my friends help a lot. I’m sure yours do to.”

“They do. If I tell them to look at things for me they do, and then I see it through them,” she said. “So I still see things. Just a bit different.”

Clint grinned at her matter of fact tone and went with it.

“That definitely sounds pretty cool,” he commented.

“Miss Lewis.” I turned away from Clint’s conversation as a little boy called my name, he looked to only be around seven or eight. “Why is your leg made of metal? Is that your mutation?”

“Matthew,” Bobby said sharply, shaking his head slightly.

“It’s alright,” I assured him. “It sort of is. I have my own genetic mutation, not nearly as cool as the X-Gene. But it was hurting me so they had to take my real leg and Tony Stark built me a new, better, one,” I explained.

“So you’re a mutant too? Just a different kind?” He asked.

I glanced up at Bobby for help but he half shrugged, half nodded.

“Sort of.” I nodded.

His eyes went wide and he grinned.

“Cool,” he said, before turning and running back to his table, to continue to eat his lunch.

“Darcy, can I have a word?”

I turned to see Jean, standing a few feet away, fiddling with the ends of her sleeves nervously.

“Of course.” I stepped towards her. “Is everything alright?”

She nodded. “I don’t mean to overstep,” she said. “I can’t help what I hear, I heard some of your conflict about Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. You can tell me to shut up if it’s not my place to say but…” She hesitated. “Polyamorous relationships work, I’ve seen them, there’s nothing wrong with them. I think you’ve seen some too. They can really be beautiful, physically and emotionally.” My eyes unconsciously f _can_ lickered to Sam, Natasha and Clint who were laughing at something a little girl said. “As long as you all communicate with each other, about _everything._ Even if you don’t think it’s important.”

“Thank you,” I said, slightly hastily. “It’s not like that, though. They don’t feel – want – it’s not like that.”

Her calm expression didn’t waver at my abrasive if not slightly rude tone. “Are you sure about that?”

Without another word, she turned and left. My eyes followed her as she disappeared down the corridor.

_What the hell did that mean?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised how long the whole Mutant High bit is, so I'm sorry if the cutting of this chapter and the next is kind of weird.


	18. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was incredible.  
> They were incredible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late... again. I'm sorry! But here you go.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** None, I don't think.

The four of us spent the next half an hour talking to various children, taking pictures and Clint, Nat and Sam were asked to sign a wide range of memorabilia.

I was in the middle of talking to Rogue and a shy little girl who turned herself invisible whenever she got scared when Steve and Bucky stepped into the room behind Professor Xavier.

I took a second to study them, they both seemed lighter, more relaxed. Not perfect but noticeably better. That was until a large swarm of children ran towards them and their eyes widened in picture perfect horror.

Celina gasped next to me, her little eyes going wide as she stared at them in amazement. She tugged on my sleeve eagerly.

“Is that Bucky Barnes? _The_ Bucky Barnes?” She asked, her Polish accent slipping through stronger in her excitement.

“It is.” I nodded. Her grin got impossibly wider. “Would you like to meet him?” I asked.

“Can Rogue come also?” She asked, looking up at her teacher pleadingly. Rogue chuckled.

“Sure I can Sugah,” she said, holding out her hand. Celina latched on to both of our hands as we edged through the group to the two.

Steve caught my eye and I raised an eyebrow questioningly. He smiled and nodded.

I looked to Bucky.

“Somebody would like to meet you,” I said, he looked down at Celina and smiled slightly.

“Hey there,” he said, his voice seemed to sound more Brooklyn than before.

She smiled shyly, her dark skin going a little transparent for a second before she squeezed my hand and re-grounded herself as Rogue had called it.

“Does your hair not get in the way when you fight?” She asked curiously. “Mystique and Colossus makes the people with long hair have it pulled back when fighting or doing sports.”

Bucky grinned slightly, crouching down to her height, he tugged on the ends of his hair slightly.

“It does a bit, I think I might have to cut it,” he said. Celina’s eyes widened in horror.

“No!” She protested. “Use this.” She tugged a bright pink hair tie off her wrist and held it out to him. “So it can be albo short or long. Not just one.” _Either._

“English Celina,” Rogue reminded her gently. But Bucky waved away her concerns.

“Czy to jest Polską mówisz?” He asked. It took me a second to translate it, I hadn’t heard or spoken Polish since my Mom died. _Is it Polish you speak?_

Celina’s eye’s widened in amazement.

“Tak!” She exclaimed. _Yes!_ “Tylko Erik mówi Polski ze mną tutaj. Wszyscy chce języku angielskim. Dobrze Charles i Hank i Mystique i Cypher posługuje się nim też. Ale Cypher nie liczyć ponieważ on mówi każdy język,” _Only Erik speaks Polish with me here. Everyone else wants English. Well, Charles and Hank and Mystique and Cypher speak it too. But Cypher doesn’t count because he speaks_ every _language._

Bucky chuckled slightly.

“I oddychać,” he said. Grinning as Celina took an exaggerated breath. _And breathe._

Celina giggled.

“Сzy jesteś z Polski?” He asked. _Are you from Poland?_

“Urodziłem się tam. Ale Erik kupili mnie tutaj. Nie ma nikogo nie teraz,” she said, she said it so calmly that I wondered if she actually understood what she was saying. _I was born there. But Erik bought me here. There’s no one left there now._

.

We spent the rest of the day at the Mansion, watching various demonstrations of different powers.

The range of ways their mutations developed was amazing, they ranged from teleportation to laser eyes to tattoo applications.

We left before dinner and headed back towards the city, nobody once mentioning whatever happened with Xavier after we left.

That wasn’t a conversation for the car.

Instead, the journey was filled with talk of the children we’d met, how extraordinary they truly were, despite the discrimination they’d endured despite their age.

It was incredible.

 _They_ were incredible.

.

Once back at the tower everyone headed straight for their own apartments.

The three of us headed straight for the couch, I dropped down with comfortable sigh, letting my eyes drift shut,

I could practically _feel_ the awkward looks that Steve and Bucky exchanged before they sat down.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” I said, not bothering to open my eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Bucky asked sitting down, lifting my feet onto his lap, his metal fingers tapping against my ankle.

I opened my eyes to see he was looking at me in confusion.

 _“He’s_ still here.” He tapped his temple. “But he can’t take over anymore. That’s what the Professor said. Even if someone says’s the trigger words. I remember it all. It’s still all recent. The Professor just got rid of a barrier he called it, two personalities are now one,” he explained everything slowly as if he was still trying to understand it for himself.

“It definitely worked?” I asked.

“Apparently.” Bucky nodded.

I smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand gently.

“I’m happy for you,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said, offering a small smile of his own.

 _“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff wishes to speak with you in her and Agent Barton’s apartment,”_ Jarvis said.

Steve glanced up at the ceiling in surprise.

“Is everything alright?” He asked.

_“Yes, she does ask that you come right away though.”_

Steve rolled his eyes at her persistence before pushing himself to his feet, he looked between Bucky and me awkwardly.

“Go,” Bucky said, gesturing towards the door. “I’m sure I will be able to resist your girl’s charm for ten minutes.”

“Sure Buck,” Steve said with a slight smile, heading out of the apartment.

I dropped my head back against the cushions with a sigh.

“Darcy?” Bucky asked in concern.

“Clint and Nat with their fucking interventions,” I muttered, no heat to my words.

“Intervention?” He asked.

I contemplated my next words carefully before opening my mouth.

“Do you want me to go? Move back in with Jane and give the two of you some space?” I asked, the words tumbling from my mouth before I could stop them.

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. I carried on before he could talk.

“I mean what do _you_ want, not Steve or me or whatever. I just – I don’t want to make anything more uncomfortable than they already are and I can’t fix this if everyone keeps telling me what they think I want to hear because that really –”

“Darcy.” Bucky shifted around to catch my hands. “I don’t want you to go anywhere. I mean it. You want me to stay with Steve, I want you to stay with Steve. Steve wants to stay with both of us. Unless you _really_ want things to end with Steve then I say we stick it out for now.

“I’m not the guy I used to be. I’m not _that_ Bucky, _his_ Bucky, I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore. I’ve gotta sort my head out before I can even thing about being in a relationship. I’m not here to get Steve back,” he said.

“But you –”

“You’re saying you’re wanting me to stick around, Кукла, so you need to trust me. Trust me to tell you when I’m uncomfortable. If you don’t mind me sticking around, then there’s more than enough room for all of us. There’s more than enough of Steve to go around.” I laughed slightly at his wink. “But I’d like to be able to be friends with you while all of this is going to shit.”

“I’d like that too,” I said.

“Oh and, if you want me to make myself scarce for a few hours, so you can have the apartment to yourselves, just lemme know,” he said.

“Urgh,” I tossed a cushion towards his head, before dropping against his side. “Is this–”

“Trust,” he reminded me gently.

I sighed, dropping my head against his shoulder.

“I’m pretty shitty with that. So, sorry in advance,” I said. “Also, sorry in advance because I’m going to screw up.”

“So am I. So is Stevie,” he said. “I think as long as we all know this in advance. We’ll get through it.”

I bit my lip nervously.

“There’s something else you should know. I won’t go into shit tons of detail now, but when I said I’m shitty with trust, it’s not just with my boyfriends’ boyfriend. The nightmares, if I ever flinch away from you or Steve or any guy. You need to know it’s me that’s the issue, not you,” I explained briefly.

“I understand,” he said, and he was one of the few people who had said that to me and I genuinely believed them. Because if anyone knows about trust and pain it's Bucky.

“Jarvis, you can tell Natasha that she can release Steve now. We’re good,” I said.

 _“He’s on his way back down,”_ Jarvis said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Bucky chuckled, slinging his arm around my shoulder, letting me settle into his side. I couldn’t help but smile slightly, turning to the next episode of Agent Carver on the TV.

I heard the front door open and in the reflection of the window, I saw Steve walk across the room.

He rounded the edge of the couch, opening his mouth to say something until he caught sight of us and he hesitated slightly.

His lips twitched in a soft smile for a second before he slid into the seat the other side of Bucky.

“So, why exactly did Natasha invite me into her apartment then get Jarvis to lock the door while she continued to watch this exact episode of Agent Carver without saying a word to me?” He asked.

I giggled slightly as Bucky sniggered.

“Nope, no idea.” I shrugged.

“Haven’t got a clue Punk,” Bucky said, his eyes still fixed on the TV.

“Sure,” Steve said doubtfully, settling down to watch the TV, but he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Polish to English Translations:**  
>  Albo - Either  
> Czy to jest Polską mówisz? - Is it Polish you speak?  
> Tak! - Yes!  
> Tylko Erik mówi Polski ze mną tutaj. Wszyscy chce języku angielskim. Dobrze Charles i Hank i Mystique i Cypher posługuje się nim też. Ale Cypher nie liczyć ponieważ on mówi każdy język. - Only Erik speaks Polish with me here. Everyone else wants English. Well, Charles and Hank and Mystique and Cypher speak it too. But Cypher doesn’t count because he speaks every language.  
> I oddychać. - And breathe.  
> Сzy jesteś z Polski? - Are you from Poland?  
> Urodziłem się tam. Ale Erik kupili mnie tutaj. Nie ma nikogo nie teraz. - I was born there. But Erik bought me here. There’s no one left there now.


	19. The Initial Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dognap,” I interjected.  
> "What?”  
> “The correct terminology is dognapped,” I said.  
> “Sure it is, Doll."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a time jump for you!  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Talks of Red Room.

Painful.

Frustrating.

Emotional.

Heart-breaking.

Just a few words to describe the past month.

It was a total rollercoaster.

Just as Sam had said, some days Bucky was totally fine, sometimes he hardly spoke or hid in his room, other days would be a mixture of both.

It was heart-rending on the in-between days, watching as one minute he was laughing and then his grin would slip and he’d fall silent and break.

What was even worse was how even on his good days he was so unsure, about everything.

Constantly looking for reassurances of his safety, asking permission for everything, for water, for food, for a _cold_ shower.

Natasha spoke to us and said it was down to his sudden lack of handler.

He’d gone from almost seventy years of strict handlers where every single thing he did was monitored and reviewed to nothing.

She told us that S.H.I.E.L.D. was her in between stage, Coulson and Clint were her in between stage, on her bad days Clint still was.

_“They’d be frustratingly patient with me,” she said as I curled up on her couch with her, she traced over the ring splints on my fingers absently, I let her. “It confused the hell out of me at first. I didn’t understand why they were giving me food even though I screwed up. I didn’t understand that I could train as and when I wanted or didn’t want. I didn’t understand anything. They were so patient._

_“I pushed it so hard at times. I got so confused as to why they were being kind to me, I thought it was a trick, a test. So I pushed back, I broke Coulson’s jaw. I wanted them to snap, to show me who they really were. To punish me. I wanted normalcy, my version of normalcy, the Red Room’s version of normalcy. But in never happened.” She hesitated for a second. “When I wanted space they gave me space, well, Clint didn’t always. He always knew when I was lying._

_“I’d say I wasn’t hungry, he’d bring me food. I’d say I was tired, he’d lay with me.” She absently rubbed her bracelet covered wrist. “I’d say I wanted to be alone and he’d sit the other side of the room in silence, giving me space. They wouldn’t punish me and more importantly; they wouldn’t let me punish myself._

_“On my down days Coulson would bring me ice cream or chocolate, rare treats in the Red Room, he’d bring blankets and things of comfort and he and Clint would sit with me the entire day, watching movies, or cartoons or anything. Coulson used to read to me. Everything from Jane Eyre to Harry Potter._

_“There were a couple of times where I tested them, I pretended to be having a down day, they both saw right through it and dragged me out of bed, but even then; they weren’t mad._

_“I hurt them, I lied to them, I yelled at them and told them I hated it all. But when I realised who they really were, that it wasn’t all a trick; I loved it. That they cared, that it was okay to care. It just took me a while to understand that._

_“It’s going to be like that with Bucky, I probably don’t help, Tony probably doesn’t help. We’re connections to those days. But he can relate to Clint. He can talk to Sam. He can get away from it all with Malia._

_“His in between though, that’s Steve and that’s you,” she said. “He will try to push you away, he will piss you off so much, but you need to be observant and patient. Look for the differences, learn the difference between the way he says ‘I want space’ and means it and ‘I want space’ and wants nothing more for someone to stay._

_“Be realistic though, go about your normal life, work, go to the gym, chill, whatever. If you stop taking care of yourself it’ll make him feel worse. It’s okay to screw up, but when you do, accept it, apologise and move on. Everyone’s going to screw up with him, just like we all screw up with each other._

_“Try to be patient; not perfect.”_

Over time I realised that while Steve and I were watching Bucky closely, everyone else was watching us.

There were several times where things would start to get too much, build up and Clint, Nat, Tony, Jane, Chelsea, _somebody_ would pull Steve or I away, take us for a walk, spar, drag us to the lab, watch a movie; they knew.

In the past month, I haven’t loved anybody like I’ve loved these people.

They don’t judge, they’re patient and understanding. They don’t care if you cry or scream, they don’t care how much you push them away. Without care or hesitation; they’re there.

They’re there for Bucky without a question because he’s Steve’s family. Just like they were there for Chelsea and Malia.

There’s nobody else I would rather call my family.

.

The recurring thing was panic attacks and nightmares, they were still present for all of us.

The tension would get tighter and tighter and then it would be a race to who could blow up first.

In the past month, I’d spent two nights in Clint and Nat’s spare room.

Only to wake up to Bucky and Steve sitting on or around my bed, with apologetic puppy looks and promises of amazing breakfast. Then someone would disappear to talk to Sam for a little while before coming back with more apologies and uplifted spirits.

It was Sam who brought up the idea initially.

He let himself into our apartment _– because who knocked nowadays? –_ turned off the TV that I was watching and stood in front of the couch, looking between the three of us in determination.

“Can we help you?” I asked, my eyes flicking to the tablet in his hand.

“A dog.” He said simply, a bright giddy smile on his face.

“Um… Are you drunk?” I asked. “Jarvis?”

 _“Master Sergeant Wilson shows no indications of being intoxicated,”_ Jarvis replied.

_Right…_

“I’m not drunk! I think you should _consider_ getting a Service Dog,” he said, looking to Bucky. “I looked into it briefly and the VA in Manhattan is currently running a program to get more vets with PTSD Service or Therapy Dogs. There are countless studies that show being in a dogs company can affect your mood, anxiety levels, sleep patterns etcetera. I’m not saying you have to of course, but it might help all of you.” He handed Bucky the tablet and I peered over Bucky’s shoulder to look at a picture of a German Shepard.

“Bear is a special case. The VA were trying something new, he’s one of a kind,” he said. “A friend of mine heard about you and said one unique case for another. I just thought it was an idea?” Sam trailed off with a slight shrug.

Bucky looked up from the tablet with an unsure look.

“I – Can I think about it?” He asked, looking pained to ask a question.

“Of course. Yeah, take as much time as you need Man, It’s totally up to you,” Sam assured him quickly.

Bucky smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

Sam nodded, before turning and leaving just abruptly as he entered.

“What just happened?” Steve asked, looking towards the door with a baffled expression.

I rolled my eyes. “He’s been hanging around with Clint and Nat too long.”

.

Once given the idea of a Service Dog, nobody mentioned it to Bucky again, and he didn’t bring it up for almost two weeks.

I lay across the couch, my head against Steve’s chest, my feet in Bucky’s lap, propping up his tablet.

“Would you guys mind having a dog?” He asked quietly.

Steve and I both looked up in surprise and I smiled slightly.

“No,” I said truthfully, I’d always wanted a dog. Steve shook his head in agreement.

“Do you think you want one?” Steve asked.

Bucky bit his lip before nodding his head slightly.

“But I don’t know if I _can._ I mean I can barely look after myself, how can I look after a dog too? It’s a big responsibility,” he said.

“It is.” Steve nodded gravely. “But you’ve got us. You’re crazy if you don’t think Clint will try and kidnap it.”

“Dognap,” I interjected.

“What?”

“The correct terminology is dognapped,” I said.

“Sure it is, Doll,” he said, patting my arm as Bucky laughed slightly. “As I was saying, Clint would try and _dognap_ it, Thor too probably. We’d all chip in.”

Bucky smiled.

“I – could I go and see him first?” He asked.

I glanced at Steve who mirrored my shrug.

“I don’t see why not,” I said. “Jarvis, can you ask Sam?”

There was a slight pause before Jarvis replied.

_“Master Sergeant Wilson assures me that visiting the dog would be more than acceptable.”_

Bucky nodded.

“Can we do that?”

“Of course we can,” Steve said with a proud smile.

_Milestone! He was asking for something for himself!_

_“Master Sergeant Wilson can arrange it for tomorrow if you wish? It would require leaving the tower however.”_

Bucky hesitated before giving a determined nod.

“Okay,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to everyone who called the Service Dog!  
> I'm looking to post a Snippet chapter tomorrow. So, be sure to look out for that!


	20. Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What did humans ever do to deserve dogs?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for the lack of update last week. In my defence, I had a concussion. But still, I'm sorry!  
> Also, Happy 100th Birthday Bucky Barnes!

Unsurprisingly Bucky was already awake when Steve and I stepped into the living room the next morning, fully dressed standing at the window, staring out at the city with a blank look, dark circles under his eyes that proved my theory that he hadn’t slept last night.

“Buck?” Steve called out carefully as I moved to pour out three mugs of coffee, watching the two of them from the kitchen.

Bucky looked round and smiled easily.

“I’m good,” he said, waving away our concern.

After a simple breakfast of poptarts, but Bucky with the ridiculous sweet tooth ate half a box on his own. Steve, forever the boring one, had toast.

Sam knocked on the door as we were clearing up breakfast, Clint standing behind him.

“You lot ready to go?” He asked.

I nodded, Bucky pulled on his jacket as I laced up my boots against a dining room chair.

We took the elevator down to the garage, and Sam drove us to the VA.

I sat between Steve and Bucky in the back of the SUV, Bucky sat tensely next to me and I carefully reached out, sliding my hand into his.

He glanced at me with a slightly unsure expression and squeezed my hand momentarily.

Sam parked the car and we headed inside, hanging back as he spoke to the lady at the reception desk who called someone else and minutes later a woman came down the corridor, hugging Sam tightly before he turned to introduce us.

“I’m Sergeant Allison Hargrove, I run the Service Dog program here,” she said, not hesitating to shake each of our hands. “This way.”

We followed her down the corridor and stopped outside an elevator and I hesitated.

“I’m sorry, would we be able to take the stairs?” Steve asked as Bucky squeezed my hand reassuringly.

Allison looked around in surprise.

“Of course, I’m sorry. This way.” She pushed through a glass door and led us up two floors.

I laughed slightly as Clint lit up brightly at the sound of yapping puppies.

We walked further down another corridor into an office where a teenage girl was sitting crossed legged on the floor a familiar looking German Shepard sat next to her.

Allison whistled and the dog trotted past her, sitting at Bucky’s feet, looking up at him.

Allison smiled slightly.

“This is Bear,” she said.

Bear leant his head against Bucky’s leg, looking up at him expectantly.

Bucky smiled, crouching down to pet him, tugging me to kneel down next to him.

Just like that, I could see Bucky had made his decision and as Bear put his cold nose against my cheek, I reached out to scratch behind his ears and I couldn’t disagree.

I could practically feel the tension seep from my body, giggling slightly as he tried to lick Bucky’s face.

“Punk c’mere,” Bucky chuckled. Steve complied, dropping to his knees the other side of Bucky.

Bear pulled away from Bucky, turning his excitement to Steve as he put his front paws on his knees.

“Hey Bear,” Steve cooed, I watched the worry fade from his eyes and I grinned.

_What did humans ever do to deserve dogs?_

_._

We moved over to the couches, Bear following to sit at Bucky’s feet as Allison went through what Bear can do for Bucky, she went into detail about the ways he was trained to recognise signs and how he would cope.

“As I’m sure Sam explained the way Bear was trained was slightly different, each dog is a unique case, but Bear especially so. As I understand he would live in the Avengers Tower, with other veterans and those with PTSD?” She asked. Sam nodded. “Bear would sense their distress too, and may wish to provide them comfort too, everyone should be aware of this.”

We all nodded.

“He knows that when the vest is on, he works, when it’s off he plays and relaxes, but even then he will still be looking out for you.” She hesitated. “There’s one more thing,” she said. “How well do you all speak German?”

We looked between at each other in confusion.

“Bear only responds to German commands,” Allison said. “He only responded to basic German commands when he came here, so we just continued to add to that rather than mix it up.”

“Das wird kein problem ist,” Bucky said with a slight smile. _That will not be an issue._

Allison smiled slightly.

“I’m glad.”

.

A lot of papers were signed and questions were asked and answered and Allison _finally_ declared that we could take Bear back to the tower on a month’s trial period. If he didn’t get on in the tower, or with Bucky before then, then he could go back and she would look into another dog. But from the look on Bucky’s face, I had no doubt that Bear would fit right in and he’d stay.

As Allison handed Bear’s leash over to Bucky with an information packet, and I don’t know whose grin was wider, Bucky’s or Clint’s as Bear trotted between them as we left the building.

Climbing into the car Bear sat between Bucky’s feet, his head resting on his knee.

Bucky laughed slightly, scratching the top of his head, he squeezed my hand and I hesitated, realising for the first time that throughout the entire time at the VA he hadn’t once let go of my hand.

“You good?” I asked quietly, he bit his lip and nodded, his eyes a little glassy.

“Yeah,” he said with a bemused smile. “Yeah, I think I am.”

.

We arrived back at the tower and I wasn’t all that surprised to see Natasha standing in the garage waiting, an unusually large grin on her face.

“What has she done?” Bucky groaned, pushing the door open, letting Bear jump down before following, tugging me after him.

Natasha’s face lit up even more at the sight of Bear.

“What did you do Natal – Natasha?” He asked. Natasha didn’t react to his slip just beckoned us to follow her.

We took the elevator up to our apartment, letting herself in without a question, making Steve roll his eyes.

Bucky unclipped Bear’s leash and vest and scratched his ears. Bear looked up at Bucky, before trotting forwards, sniffing around every inch of the apartment before running back over with an unfamiliar multi-coloured ball in his mouth, dropping it at Bucky’s feet.

He picked it up, looking at Natasha questioningly.

“I went shopping.” She shrugged innocently.

Bucky rolled his eyes throwing it across the room, smiling as Bear pounced on it, sliding on the hard wooden floor.

I glanced over the couch to see a dog bed a large array of toys scattered around, on top of the dining room table was a bag of dog food and at the end of the breakfast bar sat two bowls, one filled with water.

“There’s also a water bowl and bed in the gym and Common Area,” she said proudly.

“How much did you spend?” Steve asked, watching Bear slide into the back of the couch before scrambling back up to drop the ball at Bucky’s feet, laying down to look at him pointedly.

“Nothing,” Nat said. “Tony gave Pepper and me his credit card.”

I laughed slightly. “That’s dangerous.”

We headed up to the Common Room and Bear ran round the entire room, running back to Bucky as Malia squealed in excitement at the sight of him.

Bucky laughed slightly, rubbing his head.

“Es ist okay,” he muttered. _It’s okay._

I caught Malia before she could pounce on the unsuspecting dog, I bounced her on my hip slightly, her Bucky Bear clutched in her fist.

“Cariño, you must be careful with Bear okay? He’s a special dog. He’s got a job to do. You must _always_ ask Bucky if you can pet him,” I said. “You mustn’t ever pet him when he’s wearing a red vest, okay?”

Malia looked at Bear critically for a minute before nodding.

“He’s got a special job to do,” she said. “I mustn’t stop him.”

“That’s right,” I said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, leaning against the piano I saw Chelsea smile slightly.

Malia tugged on my shirt.

“Can I ask now?” She asked.

“Of course.” I crouched down to set her on the floor, she stepped cautiously towards Bucky, an adorably determined look on her face.

“Can I pet him, por favor?” She asked, looking up at Bucky with puppy eyes that could rival Steve’s.

“Sure Muñeca.” _Doll._ Bucky held out his flesh hand towards her, she put her tiny hand in his and let him lead her closer, carefully walking towards him, she sat on his knees. “Unten,” he said to Bear who obediently laid next to him. _Down._

He bought Malia’s hand out and gently put it on top of his head.

“Like that,” he murmured, making Malia grin brightly. “Amable, Muñeca.” _Gentle, Doll._

Bear flopped onto his side and Malia’s hand snapped back into her chest, looking up at Bucky with wide cautious eyes.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled. “He’s getting comfortable.”

I couldn’t help but grin as Malia slid off of Bucky’s lap to reach Bear better.

Pulling out my phone I had to snap a few pictures of the three of them.

We all laughed as whenever Bear moved or made a sound Malia would shoot into Bucky’s arms, the first time she did it he froze in alarm and by the time he registered what had happened she was already crawling back towards the dog.

By the fourth time he scooped her out of the air, plopping her straight back down next to the dog, smiling reassuringly as she clutched his hand warily.

Scrolling through my pictures I selected one of the pictures I’d taken at the VA of Bear in his vest, his head resting on Bucky’s lap as he grinned down at the dog and I posted it on Instagram, sharing it across Twitter, Tumblr and Facebook, tagging the VA and Canines4Hope captioning it:

_Welcome to the family Bear!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, writing Bucky x Malia x Bear has officially become one of my favourite things.


	21. Adjusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So naturally... Steve took to Twitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but I finally finished the snippet that goes with this and I wanted to post them together.  
> This chapter is kinda short, but the snippet is pretty long so...

Bear was… _phenomenal!_

He was literally _the_ best idea that anybody could have ever had.

Not only did the pictures of Bear on the Avengers Social Media become the most liked/shared/retweeted pictures throughout all of their pictures.

If anything could humanise The Winter Soldier it was giving him a German Shepard puppy _(so he was three and technically not a puppy, but he was totally a puppy)._

Bear had been with us a week and you could see the change in Bucky almost instantly, perhaps it was being responsible for someone else, or maybe it was just the dog’s effect, whatever it was, it was amazing.

Bear would as Bucky put it “annoy the hell out me til I get my ass out of bed” each morning and Bucky would get up, feed Bear while he made everyone coffee and sometimes even breakfast.

Bear also got Bucky to leave the tower more. Obviously, with him being a dog he needed to go out several times a day and Bucky was more than happy to take him.

After breakfast, Bucky, Steve and sometimes Sam or I would go for a run with Bear, the dog made the Super Soldiers keep a regular pace which made it more appealing to go running with them.

Seeing the Avengers and the Winter Soldier out with a Service Dog, running and picking up after him seemed to be the final push to see them as actual people.

Now that we were going out more often, some people seemed to start respecting our privacy more, of course, there were still people that wanted autographs and pictures, but they tended to be respectful, and respect Bear’s vest, especially after Steve’s Twitter rant.

The first time that Bucky left the tower with Bear, he’d gotten ten feet out of the front doors before turning and practically running straight back inside where he just about made it to the elevator before the panic attack properly hit him.

Between the flashing of the paparazzi's cameras, the roar of questions and several people rushing towards him it had all been too much.

He’d gone back to the confines of the elevator, and between Bear, Steve and Sam they were able to snap him out of it pretty quick, but he had spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch in our apartment, Bear lying next to him, his head in his lap.

So naturally... Steve took to Twitter. Posting a screenshot of a typed up statement.

 _I seem to recall a time, not that long ago where Darcy Lewis stood in front of various news cameras and asked for patience and privacy at this time, so far that has_ not _been respected and so far it hasn’t made a major impact on our lives until this morning._

_As everyone is fully aware Sergeant Barnes is a Veteran, a former Prisoner of War with serious PTSD, yesterday everyone was made aware of the latest addition to the tower, Bear, Bucky’s PTSD Service Dog._

_Due to the fact that we haven’t outright spoken about this is the reason for this morning’s incident, but I would like to educate you all now, so this doesn’t happen again._

_Symptoms of PTSD are:_

  * _Hypersensitivity to loud noises and bright/flashing lights._
  * _Sensory Overload_
  * _Flashbacks_
  * _Nightmares_
  * _Crowd Anxiety_
  * _Anxiety/Panic Attacks_
  * _Insomnia_
  * _Depression_
  * _Irritability/Anger_



_Nobody is saying that we don’t want you to approach us; we do. We love meeting fans outside the tower and we all, Bucky included, want to continue being able to do this, but for this to happen; we need to be able to leave the tower._

_Bear’s first priority as a PTSD Service Dog is Bucky and his health, he has a job to do and he wants to do it. Bear can:_

  * _Stop people rushing towards Bucky at once_
  * _Calm Bucky during a Flashback or Panic/Anxiety Attack. Stopping Bucky from hurting himself during these moments and stopping other people hurting him_
  * _Provides comfort to help with episodes of depression_
  * _Making Bucky feel safe at all times_



_Nobody is saying that you all have to be silent and never move, this is Manhattan that is never going to happen, but if you have to think to yourself “Is doing this going to upset Sergeant Barnes or his dog?” Don’t do it._

_As I said, Bear has a job to do and a number of things can stop him doing it so please:_

  * _DON’T pet a service dog without the handlers express permission_
  * _DON’T whistle/call for a service dog when it’s wearing a vest_
  * _DON’T try and startle either the dog or the handler_
  * _DON’T suddenly rush towards a service dog or it’s handler_



_All of these things can distract the dog which could cause potential harm to their handler. These are rules that apply to all Service Dogs, not just Bear._

_We will still talk with you, take pictures with you etcetera, but we will do it in a way that_ everyone _is comfortable with._

_Please bare this in mind in future._

_Please don’t be alarmed by Bear having a job to do, he still gets to relax and be a normal dog as I am sure will be shown across our Social Media sites or if you live in New York._

_Thank you for your consideration._

_Captain S. Rogers_

With the statement he had also posted several links for the VA, Canines4Hope and a couple of YouTube videos that explained Service Dogs better, and showed them as an integrated part of people’s lives.

Within minutes apologies and support had flooded in and the next day when they went out, everything was much more subdued.

That day was… rough. It was beyond rough, I hated it. Not because of Bucky or the press or any of that but it was October 17th.

Two years to the day that Jake died.

From the second I woke up I wanted to go back to sleep, Steve was gonna let me but Bucky didn’t. He got Bear to get me out of bed. Claiming that if he wasn’t allowed to lay in bed when he was having a shitty day, then I wasn’t either.

I snapped at Clint over breakfast and Chelsea dragged me with her to the cemetery. It was the first time I’d been back since the funeral. It was tough, but Chelsea, Malia, Clint, Steve, Bucky and Bear and Mike had arrived just before us.

It sucked, but we got through it. We got through it together.

The next day I ran with Steve and Bucky, people still took pictures, people still approached them, but it was in a much calmer way, and by the end of the week the novelty seemed to have worn off and people hardly batted an eyelid at us.

We got back to the tower and I stumbled to the floor with an exhausted groan, giggling as Bear came to stand over me, licking my face in concern.

“I’m good Bear, I’m good,” I laughed, reaching up to ruffle his fur.

I glanced up at Bucky and Steve’s laugh, choosing to do that mature thing and flip them off.

My phone chimed several times and I dropped my head back against the floor with a groan, pushing Bear off of me I let Bucky pull me up from the floor, moving over to my jacket where my phone was zipped in the pocket.

I groaned as I skimmed through my emails, looking over at Steve.

“They want you to do an interview again,” I said. “Not that they ever stopped asking you for an interview. But the requests have started pouring in again.”

Steve opened his mouth to no doubt give his usual “I don’t give interviews” response but he hesitated and sighed.

“I’ll do _one,” he_ said. “It needs to be with a decent person on a decent channel though.”

_Finally!_

“Ellen wants you on her show?” I suggested, raising my eyebrow questioningly.

Steve glanced away in thought for a second before nodding.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

I bit my lip to stop myself squealing in delight, instead, I turned my attention to replying to the email.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Steve's Twitter!   
> Also, Darcy's outfit for the last, and this chapter are now on Pinterest. Don't forget to check out that snippet :)


	22. #CapComesOut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is he actually…” Bucky murmured, his eyes wide with surprise.  
> “I think he is,” I said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so, so long and it didn't go the way I originally planned but, once I started writing an interview I couldn't resist...  
> Heads up, I'm not American, so, unfortunately, the only way I get to watch Ellen is youtube so I hope I did her justice. It was kinda weird writing an irl person.

News that Captain America was doing a one-off _live_ interview spread like wildfire.

Everyone had sat down to talk about what they were comfortable with Steve talking about and we all agreed that it was time to come clean about pretty much everything, so I sent a rough run down of what to and what not to bring up to CBS and then the day came.

Steve left the tower early and everyone gathered around the TV in the Common Room, practically all of the Stark Industries employees were crowded around TV’s in their offices. Finally, the as the opening credits rolled Bucky reached out to grab my hand, lacing his fingers with mine tightly, his other hand resting on Bear’s head, scratching behind his ears anxiously.

On my other side, Chelsea squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, bouncing Malia on her knees.

I zoned out of Ellen’s opening speech, but forced myself to focus as Steve came onto the stage with that perfect, fake, USO grin on his face as hugged Ellen, sitting down opposite her.

_“Welcome Captain Rogers, it’s an honour to have you here,” she said._

_“Thank you and Steve, please,” he said. “It’s great to be here.”_

_“It’s great. This is the first sit down interview you’ve done since you’ve been back isn’t it?” She asked._

_Steve nodded. “Yeah, it is. This is the only one I plan on doing,” he said._

_“For whatever your reasons, we’re honoured,” she said. Steve ducked his head in that fake blush sort of way. “Now, the last time we heard from anybody in the Tower was Darcy Lewis’ press conference about Sergeant Barnes, how is Sergeant Barnes?”_

_“He’s as well as can be expected,” Steve said. “He’s better than he was at least. But… there’s still a long way to go.”_

_Ellen nodded in understanding. “He came back to you didn’t he?”_

_“He did, he saved Darcy’s life and brought her back to the tower.”_

_“And you said he was doing better than he was. How was he when he first came back to you?” She asked._

_“He’s still apprehensive about everything, but he’s started to ask for things for himself. It was his decision to first go and see Bear, he asked if we can keep him, he asks for food now, he helps himself to coffee without a question._

_“To a lot of you this probably doesn’t seem like a big deal, but the day he came home, he found out Darcy had a prosthetic and he thought it was like his, like a weapon and he had a panic attack.”_ Steve took a deep breath and Bucky tightened his hand on mine slightly. _“When we had dinner later that evening, he was helping me cook, when I asked him what he wanted he didn’t understand._

_“He didn’t understand why he was being given a choice. He didn’t understand why he was getting food at all. Without going into graphic detail, he believed that because he’d had a panic attack earlier that day, that meant he deserved to be punished and not fed.”_

Ellen’s eyes widened in horror and a ripple of murmurs went through the crowd.

 _“But he’s doing better now?”_ She asked.

 _“Yeah, he still has his bad days, anyone with experience of PTSD can understand that, there’s days where he’s like he was before and there are days where he doesn’t say a word to anyone, but we just have to be patient,” he_ said.

 _“And I believe Tony Stark built him a new arm, is that correct?”_ She asked, behind her a picture of Bucky’s new arm came up on the screen behind them, it was from one of the pictures that I’d put on Instagram of Bucky, Bear and Malia, Malia’s back to the camera, her hand in Bucky’s metal one.

Steve chuckled at the photo.

 _“It is. It’s a Stark Industries prosthetic, the third one actually fitted, the first two were, of course, Darcy’s. But yeah, Tony started working on it the day Bucky moved in. This one is much more advanced than his last arm,” he_ explained.

“It doesn’t have a kill switch under the plates, that’s always a plus side,” Bucky murmured bitterly, I squeezed his hand comfortingly.

 _“That picture, it’s a great picture. Was it taken in the tower?”_ Ellen asked.

Steve grinned up at the screen.

 _“It is a great picture, and yeah Darcy took it in the Tower the day we first brought Bear home,”_ Steve said.

 _“Can I ask who the little girl is?”_ She asked.

 _“Yeah, she’s Darcy’s niece, Malia. Her and her Mom are living permanently in the tower now, her Mom, Chelsea, she’s an amazing nurse, she patches us all up after missions,”_ Steve said.

I looked over at Chelsea and Malia, Malia babbled happily at the TV at the sound of Steve saying her name and Chelsea blushed at the unexpected, very public, praise.

Ellen looked surprised by his answer.

_“Is Chelsea Darcy’s sister?”_

I reached out to lace my fingers with Chelsea’s, knowing what was coming next, it was Bucky’s turn to squeeze my hand reassuringly.

 _“She’s not, not by blood at least. Darcy’s brother was… he was Chelsea’s boyfriend and Malia’s Dad,”_ Steve said sadly.

_“Was?”_

Steve sighed. _“Darcy’s brother, Jacob, he was killed in action in Afghanistan two years ago. Chelsea was pregnant at the time,” he_ said.

_“I’m sorry, he was a soldier?”_

_“Yeah, US Army, Staff Sergeant Jacob Lewis.”_ Steve nodded.

 _“Does Malia and Chelsea live permanently in the tower?”_ Ellen questioned.

 _“They do, they moved in immediately after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, we didn’t want them unprotected, in case anybody connected them,”_ Steve said. _“They’re great, they’re both really great people to have in the Tower. Malia, she’s practically glued to Bucky and Bear now, she loves watching the reflections on his arm and Bear loves her. She’s a total gift.”_

Chelsea kissed the top of Malia’s head proudly and Bucky chuckled.

“She’s never gonna let him live that down when she’s older,” I said.

 _“You posted that statement about PTSD and Service Dogs and how to treat them, I don’t suppose she’s old enough to fully understand all of that is she?”_ Ellen asked.

 _“She doesn’t understand everything, but living with all of us and she’s lived with a Soldier with PTSD before, she understands that sometimes she has to be careful. She’s not scared of him, she just knows that sometimes she has to be careful. The same with Bear, she knows that he’s got a job to do when he’s got his vest on and even when he isn’t wearing it she always asks Bucky if she can pet him or play with him, she’s very good about it all,”_ Steve said proudly.

 _“I’m glad,”_ Ellen said. _“Now, a lot of people are very curious about the relationship between you and Sergeant Barnes, it’s been known as the friendship that will go down in history, what’s it like to have it back?”_

Steve shifted in his seat, a familiar glint in his eye.

_“Bucky and I. What we had wasn’t always just friendship…”_

“Is he actually…” Bucky murmured, his eyes wide with surprise.

“I think he is,” I said. _He asked Bucky if he could talk about it but we weren’t sure if he actually was…_

“Ssh,” Tony hissed.

Ellen leant forward slightly, a curious yet almost knowing look in her eye.

 _“What was it?”_ She pried.

 _“I er – I – I would have married him if I could’ve,” he_ said bluntly. Bucky gave a sharp intake of breath next to me, Tony swore, looking between the TV with an unreadable look and my phone started vibrating in my pocket.

There was a stunned silence that went through the studio audience and Ellen grinned as the audience broke into applause.

Steve grinned slightly.

Ellen leant forwards as the crowd slowly died down.

 _“Wow, erm – were you and Sergeant Barnes in a relationship?”_ She asked.

 _“We were, I’ve never really spoken about it before. We weren’t allowed to talk about those sort of things back then, especially in the military. But this day and age, people are more open about these things. They’re not perfect, nowhere near but… they’re making progress. I don’t have to hide the way I feel now, I should never have had to hide who I was in the first place. Nobody should,” he_ said.

 _“No, they shouldn’t,”_ Ellen agreed with a slight laugh.

“Fucking hell,” Clint said. “Did anyone else know?”

“I did,” Bucky said. _Obviously._

“So did I.” I raised my hand.

“Of course I did,” Natasha said with a roll of her eyes.

“And me.” Sam nodded.

Clint nodded, turning back to the TV. “Huh.”

_“And Darcy Lewis, your feelings for her –”_

_“Are exactly the same,”_ Steve said. _“I love her just the same.”_

 _“Is there a particular title that you want to put to your sexuality or are you a no labels guy?”_ She asked.

 _“Bisexual,” he_ said without a beat. _“I always knew that was what I was, believe it or not, that term did exist in the 20’s. First I thought I was gay, like a lot of kids do they try and convince themselves they’re not, going to church every week didn’t exactly help, my Ma was very religious. I always knew I liked men, and I just liked women too.”_ He shrugged unapologetically, Ellen’s grin grew wider still.

 _“Did anybody else know back then?”_ She asked.

Steve smiled slightly. _“Peggy Carter did, so did the Commando’s and Howard Stark –”_

Tony rose abruptly to his feet, walking straight to the elevator, Pepper sighed, looking to us with a sad smile.

“It’s not Steve he has an issue with,” she said. “I promise.” She assured us before following after him.

We turned back to the TV.

 _“Before this, did anybody know?”_ Ellen asked.

 _“Darcy, Bucky, obviously, Sam and I think Natasha knew, not much gets past her,” he_ said. Nat smiled proudly.

 _“You mentioned that Peggy Carter knew, there were a lot of rumours about a relationship between the two of you. Was this true?”_ She asked.

 _“We were on the front line, we didn’t really have time for a relationship, but I did like her and I believe the feeling was mutual. Buck and I, we always knew that our relationship in that time wouldn’t be forever, we knew early on that we would end up marrying women and having a family because that’s what was expected of us,” he_ said.

 _“Would Peggy have been that woman for you?”_ Ellen asked.

Steve shrugged. _“Maybe, I guess we’ll never know.”_

_Ellen nodded in understanding._

_“Is there something you would say to kids or even adults struggling to come to terms with their sexuality?”_ She asked.

Steve nodded thoughtfully. _“It’s okay. You are not alone. It might not feel like it right now, but you’re going to be okay. If you’re not in a safe environment you don’t have to come out, it’s okay if you want to keep it a secret. It’s okay to come out more than once if you think your bisexual but then you think you're gay, that’s okay. It’s your life, you should get to live it how you want to, you’re not going to hell for who you love, and if you do, then we’re all gonna be there together so…”_ He shrugged, a smirk fixed across his face.

Ellen laughed slightly before cutting to a commercial break.

“Fucking hell Cap.” Clint whistled, but he couldn’t help the grin as he looked down to his phone.

I reached for my own cell, scanning quickly through my 100+ notifications before sending a quick message.

_To Steve:  
I think you’ve broken the internet. I’m proud of you and I love you! :)_

Half aware that Jane was explaining to Thor about Coming Out and why people did it, he wasn’t seeming to understand why there was stigma around it, apparently, on Asgard it just was, nobody cared.

I tuned out of their conversation and tried to open Twitter but it froze shutting down instantly.

_Ooookaaaay…_

Instead, I opened Facebook and my eyes widened in surprise at the posts.

_Captain America Crashes Twitter!_

It seemed like so many people had been posting about him Coming Out that the entire website just went _nope_ and bugged out.

I shared Ellen’s video of Steve’s entire conversation about Sexuality to the Avengers page, adding _Congrats Cap! We’re proud of ya!_ With a heart emoji.

I added a bisexual flag filter to a picture of the interview, posting it up to the teams Instagram and Tumblr before trying Twitter again, this time it opened, my eyes drifted to the trends section, I swore softly, ignoring Chelsea’s kick against my shin.

 _#CapComesOut_  
#BiPride  
#Stucky  
The Ellen Show  
LGBT+  
#StandsWithCap

I grinned brightly, scrolling through the _#CapComesOut_ tag, liking and retweeting various tweets to the Avengers account, starting with Clint, Nat, Sam, Bruce and Jane’s tweets of support before switching to my own account tweeting:

_@darcy_lewis  
I know how hard that having that conversation can be. I couldn’t be prouder of @CptSRogers_

Thankfully most of what was being said were positive, especially from the younger generations, but of course, there was the negative, the talk of Tony Stark corrupting the good Captain, and about how Steve was ruining the values of America.

I rolled my eyes, not rising to the bait of actually replying.

I got an incoming text right as the commercial break ended.

_From Steve:  
I love you too!_

_“Welcome back! As you know we’ve got Captain Steve Rogers with us, our very own Captain America. Now, Steve, you have just crashed Twitter and almost stopped Facebook. Your teammates have all posted their support,_ a lot _of people have shown their support.”_ Steve gave a small genuine smile. _“It must have been beyond crazy to wake up seventy years in the future. Are you used to all this Social Media and everything of the twenty-first century or does it still throw you?”_

 _“I think I’m used to most of it now, the technology isn’t that bad. The serum gave me an eidetic memory, which helps a lot, so somebody shows me something once and it’s permanently in my mind, that helps a lot,” he_ said.

 _“Wait, so you just see something and it’s engrained in your head forever?”_ Ellen asked.

_“Pretty much.”_

_“That’s pretty cool.”_

_“It can come in handy, it can suck sometimes too, as a soldier that is,” he_ said.

Ellen opened her mouth to question it but seemed to realise what he meant and didn’t ask.

_“Is there anything that does still throw you?”_

_“Medically speaking, I have to say vaccines. As everyone knows I was really sick when I was a kid, but now you can get vaccines for so much now. It’s really great that kids don’t have to go through what I went through. Everyone should just get a vaccination, I don’t see another way of doing it._

_Technology wise, I think the thing that’s thrown me the most is the prosthetics, I was there when Darcy got her first one, and when she and Bucky got the newer ones. They are – they’re incredible, they’re beyond incredible. I’ve seen flying ships and aliens falling from the sky but… Just to see Darcy’s reaction – I remember sitting on the couch with her the day she got the leg fitted and she just sat staring at her toes as she moved them because she_ could _move them and she could feel them. It was incredible. Stark Industries, Pepper, Tony. What they’re doing is life changing,” he_ said, smiling slightly as the audience broke into applause.

 _“It really is,”_ Ellen agreed. _“Can we talk more about Darcy, there was a lot of surprise, when it came to light about her leg and your relationship. At the Press Conference, she said she had a Chronic Illness known as EDS, I’ve done some research and it seems tough to deal with. Does it impact her a lot?”_

 _“It’s something that she’s lived with since was a child, so she’s learnt how to deal with it. It impacts her every day though, but she’s amazing, she doesn’t let it stop her doing things, she just has to do things in a slightly different way,”_ Steve said.

 _“She seems amazing,”_ Ellen said.

_“She really is.”_

I ducked my head to try and hide my blush as Bucky’s thumb rubbed the back of my hand.

_“I really wish you, Agent Lewis and Sergeant Barnes all the best, Captain. Thank you for your time.”_

_“It’s a pleasure, thank you for having me,” he_ said, shaking her hand as he stood up.

The program ended and I dropped back against the couch, Bucky looked round at me and grinned.

“Has he always been that dramatic?” I asked. He nodded.

“Pretty much,” he said.

“Uncle Steeve?” Malia said, crawling over to stand on stomach making me groan slightly.

“Yeah, your Uncle Steve is very dramatic,” Bucky said, Malia giggled.

“Uncle Steeve dramatic,” she parroted, reaching forward to try and punch his arm.

Bucky stopped her fist with one finger, watching her drop down on my stomach making me give a faux groan of pain, Malia giggled.

_Yeah, he’s dramatic. But that’s why we love him!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, that happened!   
> There's a snippet that goes just before this chapter and one that goes immediately after it. I'm going to be posting both of them tomorrow morning because it's nearly midnight and I have college tomorrow, but keep an eye out for those.


	23. #Gayvengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you lot trying to break the internet?” He asked.
> 
> “No, I just wanna see how long it takes for them to realise that there can be more than two LGBT+ people in a place together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing terribly with updating this, I'm so sorry.  
> Shoutout to all the comments I got last chapter, I think that's the most feedback I got from one update! :)  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Talks of day to day homophobia.

I wrapped my arms around Steve’s neck the second the elevator doors opened, pressing my lips against his cheeks.

“How’s it feel?” I asked, recognising his wide, giddy grin.

“Crazy,” he laughed, taking my hand as he stepped into the Common Room, letting Bucky hug him.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” he said with an almost identical grin

“Me neither,” Steve said, letting Sam and Chelsea hug him as Clint patted him on the back. Nat stepped forwards, kissing him on the cheek, stepping back with a wink.

“Not bad Rogers, not bad,” she said.

“A little dramatic though,” Jane added, hugging him tightly. She held her hands up at his affronted look. “That’s what Bucky and Darcy said. Not me!”

Steve tried to glare at us but he just rolled his eyes as an excitable toddler barrelled into his shins.

“Hey Munchkin,” he said, lifting her up, settling her on his hip.

She prodded at his chest.

“Dramatic,” she said matter of factly.

Steve chuckled slightly before looking around, his grin slipping slightly.

“Where’s Tony?” He asked.

I faltered slightly.

“He’s er – in his lab I think,” I said. “He left when – right after you came out.”

Steve’s expression hardened and he nodded with a familiar acceptance.

“Steve, he doesn’t have a problem with that,” Bruce said.

“Sure,” Steve said, disbelief clear in his voice.

“He doesn’t he’s had–” He broke off shaking his head. “It’s not my place.”

Pepper, perfect as ever, chose that moment to step out of the elevator, her eyes red-rimmed, smiling as she looked towards us, a bottle of unopened Scotch in her hand.

“I’m really happy for you Steve,” she said, kissing his cheek lightly. “Tony’s not mad at _you_ , I promise.” She looked at him and Bucky. “Would you talk to him? Both of you?”

“Depends on what he’s got to say,” Bucky said gruffly.

“This isn’t Tony’s fault,” Pepper said, a hard edge to her voice, she took a deep breath. “Just please, hear him out.”

Steve exchanged a look with Bucky and nodded, he passed Malia back to Chelsea.

“We’ll go talk to him,” he said, pressing his lips to my forehead before he stepped into the elevator, Bucky and Bear right behind him.

“Is Tony alright?” I asked as the elevator doors closed.

Pepper looked down at the bottle of Scotch in her hand.

“I think he will be,” she said softly.

I smiled sympathetically, moving back to the conversation pit, picking up my tablet to do damage control.

A reply to my earlier tweet caught my eye.

_@DrJones:  
@darcy_lewis how do you know how hard it is?_

_@darcy_lewis:  
@DrJones Because I’ve sat and had that conversation before. #PansexualPride_

Clint laughed, looking up at me from his phone.

“Are you lot trying to break the internet?” He asked.

“No, I just wanna see how long it takes for them to realise that there can be more than two LGBT+ people in a place together,” I said.

Clint looked around the room thoughtfully.

“Is anyone in this tower _actually_ straight?” He asked.

Betty was the only one to raise her hand as everyone else shrugged unashamedly.

I looked to Chelsea in surprise.

“College was fun,” she said with a shameless grin, reaching over to accept Pepper’s fist bump.

I snorted slightly, looking down at my tablet as it flashed a familiar name.

_@StaffSgntMikeDavidson  
The 201 st BfSB in Afghanistan #StandsWithCap #StillBadass_

I turned the sound up and clicked on the video, a familiar unit was standing together, Mike and Iain standing side by side, a Pride Flag being held up at the back next to a US Flag.

 _“This is the 201 st Battlefield Surveillance Brigade in Afghanistan. Sexuality doesn’t ever determine a soldier’s capability,”_ Mike said.

 _“We stand with Cap!”_ They chorused.

_“Congratulations Cap, Agent Lewis, Sergeant Barnes. We stand with you!”_

I laughed slightly, retweeting the video on both my personal and the Avengers account before opening Mike’s DM.

_So proud of you D. Jake would be too, we’re all here to back you up if anyone gives y’all any shit for this! Love you!_

I grinned before typing out a reply.

_Thank you Mike, I miss you. Thank the guys and Iain for me! I love you!_

Over the next half an hour I continued to scroll through various Social Media sites, sending several emails saying that nobody was available for any more comments and Steve would not be doing another interview anytime soon.

Nobody commented when Steve and Bucky came back down, or Pepper hugged them both before going back up to the labs.

Though everyone retweeted Tony’s latest Tweet:

_@YouKnowWhoIAm:  
My full support goes to Steve, Darcy and Bucky. Those of us that swing multiple ways have to stick together. Iron Man #StandsWithCap #BiPride_

_._

Three days later and not much happened, _#Gayvengers_ became a thing, which was pretty cool.

Now, I stepped into the apartment, seeing Bucky leaning against the arm of the couch where I could see the back of Steve’s head.

“Don’t lie to me, Rogers,” Bucky said gruffly.

“Oooh, _Rogers,_ someone’s in trouble,” I teased, dropping my bag onto the dining table, moving over to them, the teasing smirk slid off my face at the sight of Steve’s red-rimmed eyes and Bucky’s angsty expression. “Steve?”

“I was just reading these,” Steve admitted, tossing a piece paper onto the pile of the table.

I slid round the other side of him looking down at the letters.

It was fanmail, the usual load came in yesterday, and I’d handed a bag of it to each of the Avengers this morning.

“This person wrote ‘I hope someday our relationships won’t be looked at with judgment and hate.’ Nothing’s changed! LGBT kids are still too terrified to Come Out, they’re still being killed for who they are. They’re _still_ the victims of so many hate crimes. It never changes!”

He scrubbed at his face violently.

“Steve, Honey, _no!”_ I said, sliding to kneel on the floor in front of him, reaching up to cup his face. “LGBT rights have come so, _so_ far in the last seventy years. No more blue discharge, no more going to prison in this country, you can get married in a lot of states.

“It’s not perfect, _Gods_ it’s far from it, but it’s progress Steve, every single day. Kids are seeing themselves more and more in the media, on TV, movies, celebrities in real life. It’s giving them the courage to speak up, it’s showing the LGBT+ community in different ways.  The next generation is pushing society _every single day._ It is making progress!” I said, wincing as it turned into more of a rant than a reassuring statement.

I reached up to take Bucky’s hand, my other hand still pressed against Steve’s cheek.

“It’s gonna keep getting better,” I said, praying to whatever Gods were listening that it was true.

Steve nodded, taking my hand from his cheek, kissing my palm.

“C’mon,” he said, shifting over, tugging Bucky and I down either side of him. “There’s too many of these to read on my own.”

.

After nearly an hour of reading mostly positive letters, mostly from teens and young adults I quietly excused myself, I stepped up to my dressing table, sliding Jake’s set of dog tags over my head.

I ran my thumb over the tag with a sad smile.

This time two years ago I was at my brother’s wake, cutting ties to my father and the rest of my family.

Hooking the tags back in their usual space, hanging on the edge of my mirror next to the picture of him and Mike and another one of Chelsea and Malia, I smiled.

“Te extraño hermano,” I murmured. _I miss you, brother._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #Gayvengers is my favourite thing ever!  
> Two snippets are going up after this chapter, so go check them out.


	24. I Am Free. And So Are You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Sergeant Barnes is in the gym with Agent Romanoff; they appear to be fighting.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, actually posting on a Sunday like I'm supposed to.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Someone Get's Shot. Vomiting. Violence.

An entire month passed without an issue, sure there were panic attacks and Steve and Bucky had a massive argument about the fact that Steve was still turning down missions, it ended in an:

“I don’t need a goddamn babysitter Rogers!”

And Steve immediately coming to me requesting a mission.

So the next morning Steve and Nat suited up and left.

“It’s about goddamned time,” Bucky muttered, as we stood in the Common Room, watching the Quinjet take off.

“He’s been itching for a fight for months,” I agreed. “In the meantime… I wanna watch a good movie. Have you seen the Breakfast Club yet?”

.

 _“The Quinjet is landing. Captain Rogers appears to need medical attention,”_ Jarvis said, a hint of alarming urgency in his voice.

Bucky and I both shot off the couch, rushing to the doors as Chelsea rushed out of the elevator, Malia in Clint’s arms.

The Quinjet turned in the air, landing perfectly on the pad and the ramp dropped.

Bucky yanked open the door and Chelsea ran across the balcony, as Natasha helped Steve down the ramp, putting pressure on the bottom of his ribs, blood seeping through her fingers.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, taking Natasha’s place to support Steve across to the elevator.

“It was my fault,” Natasha said, her voice surprisingly shaky. “I didn’t notice – he had another gun.” She shook her head. “15mm, bullets still inside so he can’t heal. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

We stepped into the elevator and Bucky shot Natasha a dark look.

“I’m fine,” Steve said with a groan, swearing as the elevator stopped and jolted.

Malia whined in Clint’s arms and he pressed her face into his shoulder so she didn’t see.

“Ah, I’ll start healing when the bullets out,” he said.

Bucky half dragged Steve out of the elevator and into the first medical room, helping him onto the bed.

Chelsea pulled her hair up into a ponytail moving to wash her hands and grab a pair of gloves.

“Get that suit off of him, or I’ll have to cut it,” she said, moving to prepare a drip with morphine.

“It ain’t repairable anyway,” Bucky said, pulling a knife out of his pocket, carefully pulling the suit away from the wound, slicing the front of the suit.

Chelsea shooed Bucky and I back, grabbing a pair of tweezers.

I glanced over at the door, Clint was pacing up and down the corridor, bouncing a screaming Malia and Natasha was stood in the doorway, staring at Steve with an unreadable look, Bear at her feet.

“Nat?” I said softly, reaching towards her, but she flinched, taking several steps back. She looked at me with wide eyes, turning without a word and leaving.

Clint looked up from Malia and sighed, he caught my eye and shook his head sadly.

I turned back to Steve as Chelsea dropped the bullet onto the tray, pressing a white gauze over the wound until it healed.

“With your healing rate it should be fully healed in a couple of hours,” she said, tossing her bloodied gloves in the trash.

“That’s great, thank you Chel–” He moved to push himself up but Chelsea pushed him back down.

“And those are hours you can spend right here,” she said sternly, then glanced towards the corridor where we could still hear Malia screaming. “I should go and relieve Clint. Don't even think about getting out of that bed Steve Rogers." With a final hard look, she turned and stepped outside, shutting the door softly behind her.

Steve looked up at Bucky, whose arms were crossed across his chest tightly, ignoring Bear pawing at his leg.

“It’s not Natasha’s fault,” Steve said, his voice strained. “It was an accident.”

Bucky nodded but it was clear he didn’t believe Steve.

.

Chelsea came back a couple of hours later, sure enough, Steve was fully healed and was given the all-clear to go home.

.

 _“Captain Rogers, Agent Lewis. Wake up!”_ Jarvis said sharply.

I shot up in bed, reaching towards my gun.

“What is it?” I snapped.

_“Sergeant Barnes is in the gym with Agent Romanoff; they appear to be fighting.”_

_Oh fuck!_

Bucky had sparred with everybody but Natasha since he came to the tower.

Neither of them had said anything, however, we all knew that neither of them had wanted to think about the last time the two of them trained together; nobody had pushed it.

The fact that Jarvis had said “fighting” and not the usual “sparring” was enough.

I followed Steve out of our room, pausing at the scratching coming from Bucky’s room.

I pushed open the door for Bear to shoot out, bouncing around us, barking wildly.

He followed us out of the apartment and into the elevator where Clint and Sam were already inside, both looking as if they’d also just been dragged out of bed.

“This is going to be bad,” Clint warned, his voice tight.

The elevator stopped and I grabbed Bears collar before he could shoot out.

We moved into the gym and the five of us stopped short in the doorway.

They were sparring, I think, though Natasha was not pulling her punches, Bucky fought her off with surprising ease.

“Bear, sitzen,” I said. _Sit._

Bear dropped to the floor with a whine and I let go of his collar.

Watching as Bucky grabbed Nat in a choke hold, his metal arm tight around her throat before she tapped out on his arm.

“Америка сделала вас коряво, Наталья,” he said, taking a position again. _America has made you sloppy, Natalia._

“That’s not my name,” Natasha practically growled, swinging round to do her thigh choke, but Bucky caught her easily, throwing her to the floor.

“No,” he said, his voice void of emotions. “Natalia fought better. She was stronger.”

Clint went to step forwards bet Sam caught his arm.

“Don’t,” he said. “I think they both need this.”

“Я не слабый. Я свободен,” Nat spat. _I am not weak. I am free._

Bucky actually laughed.

“Конечно же,” he mocked. _Of_ _course_ _you_ _are_ _._ “Вот почему вы не говорите Бартона, что вы его любите. Именно поэтому вы _не можете_.” _That is why you don’t tell Barton that you love him. It’s why you_ can’t _._

Natasha swung her foot around, grunting as Bucky grabbed it, spinning her round to the floor. She normally fought with no emotions, just cold calculation. But now her emotions were what was clouding every inch of judgment she had. She didn’t know how to fight like that.

“Но это нормально. До тех пор, как вы говорите себе, что вы свободны,” he taunted. _But it is okay. As long as you tell yourself that you are free._ “Вы должны думать. Эмоции не имеют преимущество в бою. Когда-либо!” _You need to think. Emotions do not take precedence in a fight. Ever!_

Natasha pushed herself back to her feet, her face hardening.

She swung her fist around catching the side of his jaw before he could dodge.

He reached up to touch his bloody lip with a smirk.

“Там мы идем,” he said, stepping into a defensive position. _There we go._

This time as they fought, their blows were more matched, Natasha’s hits actually hit and Bucky looked like he actually struggled to keep up until his elbow hit the side of her head and she hit the floor.

She groaned slightly, but flipped back up to her feet, slamming her foot against his ribs, I winced slightly at the crack, letting Steve clutch my hand tightly.

The injury didn’t seem to hinder Bucky until Natasha spun round, one hand going to his thigh, cartwheeling round as her thighs locked around his neck, throwing him to the floor.

She held him in place for a second until he hit the mat and Nat sprang away, rolling to her feet with a glare, pressing her hand against the side of her head with a wince in pain.

“Я свободен,” she spat. _I am free._ “И ты тоже.” _And so are you._

She brushed past us heading straight to the elevator, Clint and Sam shot us apologetic looks before going after her.

I took my hand off the top of Bear’s head and he shot forwards, fussing over Bucky as Steve and I moved forward.

Bucky batted us away and hesitated before bolting into the locker room, without hesitation we shot after him.

Bucky was sitting on the floor, doubled over the toilet retching violently.

Steve knelt next to him, pulling his hair back with one hand, setting his other hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles.

Bucky tried to bat him away but Steve wasn’t budging.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re good. You’re safe.”

Bucky dropped back against Steve’s chest, apparently done throwing up he sobbed, letting Bear drop down on his lap.

I stepped back, grabbing a bottle of water, unscrewing the top, passing it down to Bucky, crouching down in front of him.

“I fucked up,” Bucky gasped, trying to hold the water bottle steady, but his hands were shaking too much, Steve carefully steadied it.

“Yeah you did,” Steve murmured truthfully. “It’s gonna be alright though.”

Bucky shook, pressing his face into Bear’s fur as he sobbed.

Steve set the water bottle aside, curling his arms around Bucky. I reached out to take his hand.

_Fucking hell…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a long time coming... The next couple of chapters are a little rough.  
> Also, I know I said this was going to be the last story in this series... I kinda changed that. All of AoU and everything after that is going to be Part 4. So yeah, I've almost finished writing this part.


	25. You Fucked Up; You Fix It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Assassins should come with an instruction manual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very, very short but I didn't want to drag it out.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Depression.

We eventually pried Bucky off the floor, getting him back up to our apartment and into bed just as he started shivering. I wrapped a blanket around his shoulders before Steve coaxed him to lie down and without asking Jarvis raised the thermostat.

“He needs to eat,” Steve murmured, his fingers combing through Bucky’s hair.

“I’ll find something light,” I said, pushing myself off the bed, stepping out into the kitchen. Pulling out my phone, I looked down at the message that I got a little while ago but ignored.

_From Clint:  
How is he?_

_To Clint:  
He threw up and is shutting down, Steve and Bear are trying to snap him out of it. And Nat?_

I sifted through the cupboards looking for anything that might help settle his stomach. I settled on a couple of tins of soup.

It’d warm him up and help his stomach, right?

My phone chimed again.

_From Clint:  
The tower is out of Vodka._

_To Clint:  
She pissed?_

_From Clint:  
Not at Bucky. But she doesn’t want to see him right now._

I smiled slightly. _She’s not pissed at him. That was something at least._

Running a hand through my hair I looked down at myself, it was almost lunch time and I was still wearing my pyjamas. Jarvis had dragged us out of bed nearly six hours ago.

I turned back towards the stove, picking up the now boiling soup, pouring out a bowl full, setting a lid on the pan, turning the ring down to keep it warm, setting a lid on top of it.

Dropping a spoon in the bowl I carried that and the bottle of water through to Bucky’s room, setting it on the nightstand.

It appeared that Bucky hadn’t moved in the past ten minutes and Steve shook his head in confirmation.

“C’mon Barnes, you said it yourself: you fucked up, you fix it,” I said, dropping down on the end of the bed. “You can’t fix this if you don’t eat.” Bucky made no move towards the food. “C’mon, my cooking isn’t that bad and Steve’s doing that pouty puppy thing that he does when he’s worried and between him and Bear I cannot deal with these puppy eyes.”

As if on cue Bear nuzzled at Bucky’s throat, pressing his cold nose against Bucky’s throat until he shifted, sitting up with an adorably annoyed scowl.

He reached for the soup, pointedly shoving several spoonfuls in his mouth.

I leant back with a satisfied smile.

“Happy?” He asked, his voice hoarse as he set the bowl back down.

“Very,” I said.

He rolled his eyes, scratching between Bear’s ears.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barley above a whisper.

Steve clamped his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“We’re good,” he promised. “But you might wanna try apologising to Natasha.”

Bucky sighed but nodded.

“Can I –can I do it tomorrow?” He asked hesitantly.

“That’s probably for the best,” I said with a slight reassuring smile. “Clint says she’s not up for visitors at the minute.”

Bucky tried to smile but it came out as more of a grimace and nodded again.

Steve and I sat with Bucky for the rest of the day until he finally kicked us out so he could sleep in peace.

Stepping out of Bucky’s room Steve shut the door softly, leaning back against it with a heavy sigh.

I stepped forwards, tugging him into our room, shutting the door with my foot before going forwards, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my face into his shoulder, one hand settled on my hip the other tangled in my hair.

With his hand in my hair, he tugged my head backwards his lips crashing against mind, slamming me backwards against the door, his grip in my hair getting almost painfully tight as his mouth moved across my jaw and down my neck.

.

_“Captain Rogers, Agent Lewis. Wake up!”_

I opened my eyes with a groan.

“What Jarvis?” Steve mumbled into my shoulder.

 _“Sergeant Barnes is not in his room,”_ Jarvis said. I pulled away with a groan, sitting up, taking the sheet with me.

“Where is he?” I asked. _Please don’t be –_

_“He’s in the gym with Agent Romanoff.”_

“Fucking hell.” I dropped back against the pillows for a second before pulling myself up, looking around for my clothes, noting Steve doing the same.

I pulled on yesterday’s clothes, deciding to have a shower _after_ we stopped the two from killing each other.

Moving through the Living Area, I noted the lack of Bear in the apartment.

I pulled my hair up into a ponytail as I stepped into the elevator, where once again Clint and Sam were standing with almost identical expressions of frustration.

The second the doors opened the four of us rushed forwards into the gym, stopping dead at the emptiness. There was nobody here. Not a single thing out of place.

“Jarvis?” Clint said, his voice low. “Where are they?”

 _“Agent Romanoff and Sergeant Barnes are in the Common Room,”_ Jarvis said.

“Wha—”

I shook my head, turning back with everyone else to the elevator, Clint slammed his finger on the Common Area button.

I tapped my fingers against my thigh as the elevator rose and the doors slid open.

Not really sure what to expect we stepped into the room, I scanned the floor, my eyes settling on the Conversation Pit where Bucky and Nat were curled up together on the couch, a shared blanket wrapped around them and a glass in each hand with a bottle of opened Vodka on the table, Bear lay across Bucky’s lap, his head on Natasha’s lap as she stroked him idly.

“What is happening?” Sam asked, breaking the confused silence.

Nat and Bucky both looked up at us before rolling their eyes in creepy unison before turning back to the TV where they were watching… _Home Alone?!_

I turned back to the others who all looked just as baffled as I did and Clint was muttering something about Russian’s and their weird customs before dropping down next to Natasha, Sam sitting the other side of him.

“Right,” I said to no one in particular. “If nobody is killing each other, I’m going to take a shower. Then I want food.”

I stepped back into the elevator, Steve moving in next to me, still looking just as confused.

“Does this mean they’re friends now?” He asked and I shrugged cluelessly.

“I have no idea.”

Assassins should come with an instruction manual. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody ever said Russian Assassins made sense.


	26. Happy Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s Christmas!” He exclaimed as if that explained everything.
> 
> “It’s 6am!” I grumbled back. "And I'm Jewish!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defence, I did write this in December so...  
> Also, I'm so sorry for the delay, things have been crazy and Darcy makes EDS look easy! On the plus side, I've written a one-shot (not for the snippet series) about Clint coming to SHIELD, I don't know why but I did and I will post it soonish.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Fluff and adorableness.

December passed ridiculously quickly and before I knew it, it was the 23rd.

The tower was decorated, everyone’s shopping was done. Well, mine was, I’m not so sure about Clint’s, or Tony’s.

I lay across our couch, like I usually did, my head in Steve’s lap my feet on Bucky’s, I resisted the urge to kick him as he kept running his index metal finger over the arch of my cybernetic foot making me squirm. The vibranium against vibranium sent an indescribable electric shock up my leg and through my body, also; it fucking tickled.

Bucky’s fingers stopped abruptly and I glanced over at him in concern.

“Do you still go to Midnight Mass?” He asked randomly. Steve looked up from his book with a strange expression.

“I haven’t. Would you like to?” He asked. Bucky hesitated, looking conflicted for a moment.

“I’m not – I don’t still believe in God or anythin’ but yeah. I think I do, I mean we don’t have too,” he backtracked.

“I think I want to too,” Steve said, a soft smile on his face that he only got when he was thinking about before.

“What happens at Midnight Mass? Or Non-Midnight Mass?” I asked curiously before one of them could get too lost in memories.

“You never been to Mass?” Bucky asked in surprise.

I shook my head.

“I’m Jewish,” I said. “Or at least I was born Jewish. I never really found a need or a particular want for a God after I was about twelve.”

“Huh.” Bucky then went on to describe how the Catholic Church worked, I knew the basics, I did go to an American School and life in a small town after all, but he described Mass and how services all used to be in Latin, like the bible.

“It’s all in English now,” Steve chimed in. “The bible and the services. I went to one after I woke up. It was… strange.” I smiled sympathetically, reaching down to squeeze his hand that was resting on my stomach. “It’d be good to go again I think. I don’t – I don’t think I believe anymore, but – but it couldn’t hurt.” He shrugged.

So it was decided. We were going to Church.

.

The next evening I rifled through my closet in my underwear, not knowing what to wear.

_What do Catholic people wear to Church?_

I thought back to any Christmas movie ever.

A modest dress, hair done, make-up nice.

Shuffling through my rack of dresses I grabbed a dark red one, it was form fitting with a high neckline and it came to just above my knees.

_It was suitable, right?_

“Jarvis, is this suitable to wear to Church?” I asked, my eyes drifting to my rack of boots.

_“I believe so.”_

Smiling slightly, I pulled it on, zipping the side up before sliding my feet into a pair of black wedges, laying the new Camo Device over my converter I watched as it faded into a normal looking leg, I smiled grimly, setting my dress straight before checking myself in the mirror.

I looked… Like I was going to dinner with my dad’s family. Perfect!

I grabbed my thicker leather jacket, I had to have some sort of comfort, carrying it out, I tossed it on the end of the bed as I slid onto the dressing table.

Putting light curls in my hair I touched up my make-up with some powder and a little more lipstick.

After I was done I stared at my reflection.

It wasn’t right. Something was missing.

Before I could stop myself I reached over to my jewellery box, pulling out a box that I hadn’t touched since I’d put it there.

_Was it appropriate to wear this to a Church?_

Before I could think about it anymore I found myself clasping it around my neck.

The weight was familiar, but the Star of David looked so foreign on me now, I never used to take it off and now I haven't worn it in over ten years. I tucked it under the edge of my dress with my Dog Tags, not caring about the visible gold chain.

Brushing this away I set the box down, securing all my ring splints before I stood up, grabbing my jacket and headed back into the Living Area where Steve and Bucky were wearing suits without ties, sitting at the dining room table playing cards.

_I didn’t even know we owned a pack of cards._

Bucky looked up and gave a low appreciative whistle.

“Is this okay?” I asked self-consciously. “Jarvis said it was.”

“You look amazing, Doll,” Steve said, coming to stand next to me, he looked down at me curiously, his finger hooking under the gold chain, tugging it out from under my dress, his eyes softened in recognition.

“I don’t know, I just felt I should wear it. I can take it off if it’s not suita –”

Steve caught my hand before I could tug it off.

“If you want to wear it, then you can,” he said, pressing his lips to my knuckles. I relaxed slightly with a soft smile.

We took the modified, three seats in the front, SUV through the Manhattan Christmas traffic, stopping down the road from the old Brooklyn church that both Steve and Bucky used to go to as children.

With no hesitation Bucky got straight out of the car, a look of determination fixed on his face, Bear following down after him.

Steve and I exchanged a glance before following after them.

We sat in the back row in the Church, silently listening to the Priests gentle voice.

Neither Steve or Bucky got up to take Mass, neither of them questioned why the other didn’t, I sat between them in respectful silence.

As the Priest lead the procession out of the church, his eyes lingered on us as he passed. A soft smile of recognition on his lips and a respectful nod.

Steve slid a little bit more than usual in the Donation Box as we left and without a word I took both of their hands, pressed between them as we walked back to the car.

I slid back in between them, thankful for Starks Instant Heating and the fact that super soldiers ran hotter than everyone else.

Steve hesitated over the ignition, looking over at the two of us with a soft, tender smile.

“Happy Christmas.”

.

As expected Christmas Morning was a flurry of activity, that was happening _way_ too early in the morning.

Clint, somehow with Malia, banged on our door at 6am. Steve, as the amazing boyfriend that he was, got up to open the door as I buried my face further into my pillow.

At the sound of a light, childish shriek, curiosity got the better of me and I dragged myself out of bed and into the Living Area, as I stepped out Bucky and Bear emerged at the same time, both of them still looking half asleep.

I paused at the sight of Clint standing in the doorway, Malia sitting _on top_ of his head, giggling manically, both of them wearing green elf hats, Malia’s sliding over her eyes.

Steve stood in front of them, looking as though he was trying to decide if he was still dreaming or not.

“Did you kidnap my niece?” I asked quizzically.

“Nope, she came willingly,” Clint said with a proud grin.

I blinked sleepily at them for a minute before shaking my head.

“You still could have kidnapped her.”

Clint rolled his eyes, wincing as Malia, apparently bored now, yanked on his hair.

He reached out, grabbing my hand, dragging me out of the apartment and into the elevator, I looked desperately over my shoulder at Steve who with a bewildered expression followed.

"Wait," Bucky said, darting back into the apartment.

"Barnes, don't you dare leave me with these weird morning people!" I yelled, slamming my hand on the elevator door to stop it closing, looking up at Steve who just shrugged. Bucky jogged out of our apartment and down the corridor, coming to stand next to me. "Wha-" He held out his hand, opening his fingers to reveal my ring splints. "Oh." I smiled softly, letting go of Clint's hand to let Bucky carefully slide them on. "Thank you." 

He just smiled, squeezing my hand slightly as he set the last one in place, looking back to the front as the elevator doors closed and it finally started to rise.

“What is happening?” I asked, turning back to Clint. “Why are you kidnapping everyone?”

“It’s Christmas!” He exclaimed as if that explained everything.

“It’s 6am!” I grumbled back. "And I'm Jewish!"

Clint rolled his eyes with a sigh but didn't reply, just took my hand back.

We stepped into the Common Room, where much to my surprise everyone was already waiting.

“Did you kidnap everybody?” Bucky asked, accepting the coffee that Natasha handed him.

“He saved you for last. We’ve—” Sam gestured between himself and Natasha. “Been up nearly an hour,” he said.

“God, I love you,” I gushed as Natasha pressed a mug of Coffee into my hands.

“Я тоже люблю тебя, Maлышка,” she replied, kissing my cheek softly.  _I love you too, Little One._

Betty, Maria and Thor started to lay out breakfast on the table and Chelsea gave up trying to explain to Clint why Malia couldn’t sit on his head while we were eating before finally just letting him go with it.

It was Christmas after all.

.

After breakfast everyone moved around to the Christmas tree, passing out presents, and Malia moved from Clint’s head to his lap so he could help her tear into presents.

When she was done her gifts were spread out across Clint’s lap and she practically demanded to sit back on his head, declaring she could be bigger than everybody else for once and nobody had the heart to tell her that she was still shorter than Steve and Bucky.

Clint rolled his eyes at her bossiness, claiming she took after her aunt before complying.

I was sure to snap several pictures.

_They were so going on Instagram!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  Я тоже люблю тебя, Maлышка - I love you too, Little One - Russian  
> I would just like to say that I have never been to midnight mass, I am neither Jewish or Catholic, if any of this is wrong please let me know.


	27. Happy Jam Day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since I’d worn the Star of David on Christmas Eve I’d found myself reaching towards it more often, it wasn’t because I suddenly wanted to believe in God again and I didn’t want to wear the necklace again but…
> 
> But for some reason, it meant something else, something peaceful and I had found myself missing the familiarity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly a week from my last update! I'm starting to get back in the swing of things.  
> Also, I decided to skip the whole New Year Party thing, just picture them having a fancy Stark Party at midnight. This starts on January 1st, 2015.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** None. Just fluff!

After Christmas we had six days, six days until an excitable baby hit her terrible twos, those six days passed ridiculously quickly.

New Year’s Day wasn’t only the first day of 2015, and Malia’s second birthday. It was also Steve and I’s second year anniversary.

I’m not entirely sure how it would work, what with Steve’s ex-living in our Spare Room, speaking of that it was… weird.

Bucky had come so, _so_ far since August, it was incredible. If anyone mentioned it he would say it was down to us or Bear, I think a lot of it _was_ down to Bear.

But Bucky still deserved the most of the credit.

He had been so determined to get himself back that he had pushed forward through _everything_ and still carried on pushing.

Now, he ate and slept on as regular of schedule as anyone in the tower did, he went for runs with Bear at least once a day, sometimes more, he always took wads of cash with him, giving it to whatever homeless vets people he saw.

The only sort of downside was that he had lost all concept of personal space.

He would constantly, hold my hand, sling an arm around my shoulders, play with my hair, massage my feet, he’s _the_ cuddliest person ever and – and I kinda loved it.

The most noticeable development was the way he spoke.

The hesitation was still there, but he would push it away, make inappropriate comments, he swears _constantly,_ it had gotten to the stage where _Malia_ was the one pointing it out.

Even on his bad days, he will worry about everyone else before taking care of himself.

He wasn’t perfect, he didn’t want to be. He was _amazing!_

He and Steve had started to spend more time together, but neither of them gave me a chance to feel jealous before Steve was whisking me off on some amazing date or Bucky was getting cuddly; it was strange. But it wasn’t bad, somehow it worked.

.

“Auntie Darcy! Auntie Darcy! Auntie Darcy!”

I caught Malia as she leapt through the air towards me.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I said, spinning her through the air before setting her on my hip.

“Guess what?” She said.

“What?”

“I’m two!” She exclaimed, holding up two fingers.

“Really?!” I gasped.

“Almost old enough for her first shot,” Natasha said, sliding past us, kissing Malia’s cheek. “С днём варенья!” _Happy jam day!_

_Happy what now?!_

“You are not giving my two-year-old Vodka,” Chelsea said sternly from where she was sitting on the floor with Jane, trying to assemble some crazy looking toy that Tony had probably bought.

“Next year.” Nat winked.

“Happy Birthday, Muñeca,” Bucky said, bopping her on the nose making her giggle.

Presents were opened and you could have literally buried Malia in the amount of wrapping paper was shredded across the floor, still clutching her Bucky Bear she flipped through the books I bought her, some in English some in Spanish.

_My niece was not going to grow up without her own personal library._

Steve had added his own contribution of colouring books and paints, determined to get her into art.

Everyone was determined to get her into something.

Clint had bought her a little nerf archery set while Tony had _bought?_ a Stark Industries mini engineering kit.

Natasha however, had bought barbies and action figures. Declaring that the dolls would let her become whatever she wanted to be, but this also symbolised Natasha’s skillset. Becoming whatever she wanted. Though she did still throw in a Russian children's book.

After pizza’s, Malia’s favourite food (Clint was so proud), I carried out the cake, the two candles looking tiny against the large monstrosity of chocolate icing that Chelsea and I had put together yesterday.

After a quick, off key, chorus of “happy birthday” Malia and Chelsea blew out the candles and I helped her pass out plates.

Covered in chocolate cake, Malia dropped down on the floor with Bucky and Bear, curling between the two of them and was asleep in minutes.

Chelsea smiled softly at the scene.

“Thank you,” she said, looking around at the team. “Really, _thank you.”_

“What else are families for?” Jane said, with a smile. Chelsea froze, staring at Jane with wide eyes before her face crumbled.

Clint, who was the closest, reached out, tugging her into his arms as she tried to compose herself.

_Chelsea had had her Dad, Jake, Mike and Me. Now Jake was gone, Mike was the other side of the world, her Dad was several States away._

“Thank you,” she mumbled, burying her face in Clint’s shoulder as he squeezed her tighter.

“It’s really our pleasure,” he assured her, kissing the top of her head softly before she pulled away, wiping her eyes as I reached out to squeeze her hand.

“I have had too much wine,” she sniffed. “I should go and put us both to bed. I’ll clear up all of this in the morning.

She knelt down to carefully pry Malia away from Bucky’s shirt and the dog’s fur, settling her on her hip, picking the Bucky Bear off the couch. With a quiet “Goodnight” she headed into the elevator.

I pushed myself off the couch with a weary sigh, starting to collect the paper into a bag and everyone else started to move to clear up plates and pizza boxes, Natasha carefully stacked all of Malia’s presents next to the couch for tomorrow and once everything was tidied away everybody started to head back to their own rooms.

We got back to the apartment and Bucky winked at me before disappearing into his room, Bear trotting behind him.

“Wha-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said, pulling me into our room, tugging me over to the chest of drawers. He pulled a small black box out of the top drawer and held it out to me.

“Happy anniversary,” he said, pressing the box into my hands.

“Steve,” I whined. “We agreed no presents. I didn’t get you anything.” I pouted, an annoying wave of anxiety swirling inside me.

“I’m sure you can find a way of making it up to me if it bothers you so much,” he teased, before looking down at me with a more serious expression. “Really, Doll, it’s okay. I got to spend the day with you and that is enough for me. Now, it’s not much, but open it.”

Curiosity getting the better of me, I looked down at the box. Too big to be a ring box, too small to be a necklace, but definitely jewellery.

I carefully lifted the lid, smiling softly at what was inside.

On top of the black cushion sat two small Pandora beads.

I’d spoken just the other day about starting to add to my Pandora bracelet, so it wasn’t just Jake’s charm, but I didn’t think Steve had been actually listening.

The first charm was a double sided Captain America shield. I brushed my finger over it with a smile. _Staking a claim much!_

The second made me pause, a gold Star of David.

Ever since I’d worn the Star of David on Christmas Eve I’d found myself reaching towards it more often, it wasn’t because I suddenly wanted to believe in God again and I didn’t want to wear the necklace again but…

But for some reason, it meant something else, something peaceful and I had found myself missing the familiarity.

I looked up at Steve with wide eyes, a smile stretching cross my lips as I surged up to kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck before pulling away, I stepped over to my dressing table, sliding the two new charms down the blue leather, I smiled slightly as I set it back down.

Turning back to Steve, stepping back into his space, my hands slid down his sides, settling on his hips.

“Thank you,” I said, leaning up to kiss him softly, dropping back down with a mischievous smile. “So, I was thinking I could make it up to you now.”

My hands drifted round to his belt, shivering as his eyes darkened.

“What did you have in mind, Doll?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  С днём варенья! - Happy jam day! - Russian. So... I googled Happy Birthday in Russian and this kept coming up so... If it's wrong and makes no sense let me know. Btw, I found it [here.](http://masterrussian.com/blog/happy-birthday-in-russian/) Also if it is right, would someone mind explaining it to me?  
> If you haven't already, maybe go check out my [ Hawkeye origin story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10811835) that is related to this fic.


	28. Natural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _How do you tell your boyfriend that you like his ex as well?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the moment you've been waiting for...  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Mild angst but the happiest of endings.

I was stood in the Common Room, leaning casually against the piano as Bucky’s fingers moved nervously across the keys, unsure of the notes he played. He winced as he hit the wrong key, snapping his hands away with a distressed noise.

In the kitchen, Pepper and Steve glanced our way with varying looks of sadness.

“This is stupid,” Bucky muttered, reaching to pull the lid down.

“Nu-uh.” I caught the lid before it could close, sliding onto the stool next to him, pushing it back up. “Learning to play takes time and patience. But you don’t need to _learn_ you need to _remember,”_ I said, smiling softly at his doubtful look. “It’s just muscle memory. Like dismantling your rifle. You could do that with your eyes closed.”

“I don’t remember,” Bucky said, his voice cracked.

“Stop thinking about it,” I instructed. “Stop thinking about _how_ to do it. Just play and see what happens.”

Bucky stared at me for a second, before turning back to the keys. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes he let his fingers glide across the keys.

The soft music drifted around the room, he hit a wrong note but barely even faltered, playing an intricate sounding jazz piece that I didn’t recognise.

Steve came to lean against the piano where I had been standing, watching Bucky with a soft, proud smile and warmth in his eyes.

Bucky finished the piece with a soft sigh, taking a minute before look back up to me with wide eyes.

“See,” I said, my voice breathy and soft. “Just muscle memory.”

“Muscle memory,” he breathed. My eyes flicked down to his lips as I suddenly realised how close we were, I could feel his breath against my face. My eyes flickered down to his lips again and I jerked backwards, suddenly finding the dust on one of the keys very interesting.

“That sounded really good Buck,” Steve said, his smile not wavering. “I haven’t heard that in years.”

I think Bucky said something back, but my brain drifted away from their conversation.

_What the hell was I thinking? I almost– No. No. Absolutely not. I couldn’t…_

My breath hitched in my throat and I abruptly rose from the stool, both Steve and Bucky fell silent, looking up at me with identical looks of concern.

“Darce?” Steve said softly.

“I – I’ll be back in a minute. I just need some air,” I managed. Rushing towards the stairwell before either of them could say anything.

.

I hammered my fist against Clint and Nat’s apartment door.

_C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon—_

The door was yanked open and I faltered slightly at the sight of a disgruntled Sam, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, a fresh, large, hickie just above his waistband.

My eyes flickered at the movement behind him to see Clint in a similar state of undress and Natasha wearing nothing but one of Clint’s t-shirts.

“Shit! I interrupted – Sorry, I’ll come back. I just – I can wait. I’ll—”

I went to turn away but Sam caught my arm, his annoyance fading into concern.

“Darcy, breathe,” he said, guiding my inside as I tried to take several deep breaths, half aware of him pulling a shirt on that Clint had thrown him. He guided me over to the couch and the three of them came into my eye line, now fully clothed, not a hair out of place. “Ssh, don’t worry. Just keep breathing. There, and again. Good. Take a minute,” he murmured, brushing my hair away from my face, letting me calm down before going on. “Darce, what’s going on?” he asked, somewhere between his normal voice and his therapist voice.

“He keeps making suggestive comments and he’s super nice despite everything and he has no concept of personal space and it’s _so_ obvious that Steve still loves him and I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out in a rush.

“So, Bucky’s making you uncomfortable?” Sam asked, looking completely lost.

“No! That’s the thing, he isn’t and it’s weirding me out. He winks and leers and smirks and is grabby and it should make me really uncomfortable but it isn’t, it makes me feel… safe and I don’t know why!” I rambled, not understanding what was happening.

“So your issue is that you like him?” Natasha asked like this wasn’t anything new and she understood everything that was happening, which she probably did. I scrunched up my face in distress but didn’t disagree. I’m pretty sure if I disagreed I’d just be lying.

“I just – they’re _both_ amazing but I was so happy for the last two years. But I really, _really_ love Steve,” I said, my face crumpling, tears finally sliding down my cheeks.

Sam sighed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, rubbing my arm soothingly.

“I know,” he said. “ _We_ know. Nobody that’s ever seen the two of you together would ever doubt that. But you can like two people in exactly the same way at the same time.” He looked at Clint and Nat pointedly.

“Didn’t Steve say to the both of you months ago that he wouldn’t choose between the two of you?” Clint asked. I nodded slightly and he smiled. “Steve loves you _so_ much, but I don’t think his love for Bucky ever went away. And we’ve all seen you with Bucky, on his bad days he doesn’t even let Steve near him, but he _clings_ to you.”

“You need to talk,” Sam said sternly. “All three of you. None of you, Bucky especially, can deal with going behind each other’s backs and keeping secrets. Talk to them.”

“But…” I hesitated. “What if he doesn’t – what they don’t want this?” I asked.

“You won’t know til you talk to them,” he murmured and I sighed.

_They were right._

_Of course they were right._

_But—_

_Don’t fuck this up._

_I couldn’t fuck this, I wasn’t allowed to fuck this up._

_I wouldn’t let myself._

“Go see them,” Natasha said softly. “You cannot hide up here forever.”

I sighed, rubbing my hands across my face before nodding. Pushing myself to my feet.

“I’m going to talk to them,” I said, getting three reassuring smiles in return.

Before any of them could say anything I left, taking the elevator back down to our apartment.

Stepping through the door, I paused.

Steve and Bucky were sprawled out on opposite ends of the couch, Steve with his sketchbook in his hands and Bucky with a Harry Potter book.

I felt my determination dissolve.

They looked so content. So comfortable.

I would talk to them.

Just not today...

.

For the next three days I woke up, determined I would talk to them and then… just didn’t.

Something would happen or they’d do something and I would put it off til the next day.

Every time I saw Sam, Clint or Nat they would give me a pointed look and I would sigh, rolling my eyes at them, assuring them I had everything under control. Which was of course; a blatant lie.

“Is everything alright Doll?” Steve asked the evening of the fourth night, the three of us had settled on the couch in our apartment watching Agent Carver, Steve playing with my hair.

“I’m fine,” I said automatically, then winced as Steve’s fingers stopped in my hair and Bucky looked up at me.

“Bullshit,” he said bluntly and I sighed.

“It’s nothing important, really,” I insisted, but neither of their looks wavered.

“Is that why you’ve been acting weird the last few days?” Steve asked.

“And why Natasha has been being extra nosey?” Bucky put in.

“It’s really nothing,” I tried to say, but even I could hear the weakness and doubt in my own voice.

“Darcy, you can talk to me, you know that. I won’t be mad,” Steve said softly, reaching down to take my hand.

“Do you want me to get outta here for a while?” Bucky asked.

“No!” I snapped, then winced at how desperate that sounded. He reached out to take my other hand, assuring me that he wasn’t going anywhere. “I just – It’s just that–”

_How do you tell your boyfriend that you like his ex as well?_

“You still love Steve,” I blurted out, looking to Bucky. “And you still love Bucky.” I looked to Steve, Steve’s face fell and he opened his mouth. “That’s not an accusation,” I said softer. “It’s the truth, and it’s okay because you still love me. You can love both of us and its okay.” I turned back to Bucky. “It’s okay because I like you. You’re annoying and funny and cuddly and amazing and I really like you. And I _think_ you like me. It’s okay if you don’t and I’ve got this all wrong we can just forget this entire thing ever happened.”

Bucky smiled slightly then frowned as if he realised what I meant.

Steve’s hand tightened on mine slightly.

_Fuck! No going back now._

My eyes flickered up to Bucky, looking away again quickly. He didn’t look unhappy.

He squeezed my hand.

“I like you too, Кукла,” he said, I looked up at him in surprise, he was smiling softly, in a way I’d seen him smile at Steve when he thought nobody was looking.

With a wink he looked over my head at Steve and I turned to face him, my eyes fixed several inches lower than his chin.

“What are you saying Darcy?” Steve asked, his voice soft and unguarded.

“I’m – I’m saying that more than two people can be in a relationship together and for it to still be okay,” I said, my voice barley above a whisper.

“Are you asking me out Кукла?” Bucky asked, I looked round at him and gave a half shrug half smile.

“If that’s what Steve wants, then yes,” I said.

I risked a glance up at Steve who was staring at me with wide, glassy eyes.

“We don’t have to. I just thought it was what you—”

“Hey, I’m not upset,” he said, tilting my chin up to look at him. “I’m just surprised.” His thumb ghosted across my cheekbone. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” I said.

Steve nodded, leaning down to capture my lips softly.

“God, I love you,” he breathed as he pulled away, kissing my forehead gently.

“I love you too,” I said, with a small grin.

I pulled away, turning back to Bucky. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m asking you out.”

He grinned, raising the hand he held to his mouth, his lips settling on my knuckles.

“I’d love to go out with you,” he said. I grinned, leaning forwards slightly, then hesitated. “What is it?” He asked.

“Can I – can I kiss you?” I asked, heat rising to my cheeks as Steve shifted behind me.

“You never have to ask Кукла,” he said.

I smiled, leaning further forward, my lips met his and my eyes slid closed.

The way he and Steve kissed weren’t that different, they both took charge, Steve took control naturally, smooth and confident. Bucky was just as confident but slightly rougher, a hand in my hair, almost taunting me to try and challenge him, teeth nipping at my tongue, sucking on my bottom lip.

But the _way_ he kissed was still the same, he tilted his head at the same angle, his tongue swiped across mine just the same.

His biological hand was tight in my hair, the metal one holding me firmly in place by my waist. Another hand, _Steve’s_ hand was on the small of my back, his thumb brushing under the edge of my shirt.

I broke away, my forehead resting against his for a second as I tried to catch my breath. 

Sitting there, the three of us connected together, I couldn't describe it, it just felt right; natural even.

“Damn,” I breathed, Bucky laughed as I pulled away.

“How is this going to work?” Steve asked, letting go of my hand to snake it around my shoulders, letting it rest on the back of Bucky’s neck.

“No idea,” I said, Bucky shrugging in agreement.

“We should go out, the three of us,” Steve said. “Tomorrow.”

I smiled slightly and shrugged.

“I’d like that,” I said.

Bucky nodded. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this seem rushed?   
> Whenever I do any sort of slow burn I feel like them getting together is still rushed. I'm terrible.  
> Anyway, please let me know _all_ of your thoughts on this.


	29. On A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re both crazy,” he said, sliding to his feet, Bear hopping up next him, sniffing Steve and me curiously.
> 
> I laughed giddily, practically bouncing in front of him. “Life’s better that way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is closer to Sunday in fairness...  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Absolutely none.

I woke up the next morning with a soft smile.

No nightmares, not from me, not from Steve and not from Bucky. Everyone slept the entire night through.

“Morning,” Steve murmured, pressing his lips against my hair before looking down at me with a soft smile.

“Morning.” I pushed myself up, groaning as my back and shoulders popped and cracked. I hummed slightly. “Coffee,” I said. “I need coffee.”

Steve laughed slightly. “Of course,” he said, sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he stood up, holding his hand out to me. “I think Bucky is making breakfast again.”

I smiled, taking his hand, letting him tug me out of bed.

His fingers laced with mine he tugged me into the Living Area where Bucky was indeed standing at the stove frying bacon, Bear had his head in his bowl, wolfing down his own breakfast.

“Good morning,” Steve said, brushing past Bucky, his hand lingering on his waist, setting a gentle kiss on his lips before pulling away, reaching for the coffee.

Bucky smiled slightly, turning to me as I lingered back slightly, he rolled his eyes, keeping one hand on the pan, reaching out with the other, tugging me closer.

I grinned, reaching up to kiss him softly.

As I pulled away he pressed a plate of bacon and eggs into my hand, my grin widened.

“I could get used to this,” I commented, accepting a mug of coffee from Steve as I sat down at the breakfast bar.

“Don’t.” Steve winked, sitting down next to me, Bucky sitting on the other side.

“Will you tell me where we’re going yet?” I asked, wrapping my hands around my mug of coffee, taking a sip.

“Nope,” Steve said, exchanging a smirk with Bucky.

“Can I at least know _when_ we’re going?” I asked, through a mouthful of bacon.

“Eleven?” Steve asked, looking to Bucky who nodded. “Eleven. That’ll give us enough time.”

Breakfast passed in light conversation before I cleared everything away and disappeared to get ready.

I took a quick shower, pulling on a pair of black high-waisted jeans and a red crop top that shows just a slither of my stomach.

Sitting at my dressing table I put a little extra effort into curling my hair and doing my make-up, picking a shade of red lipstick that matched my top perfectly.

Setting all of my splints in place I pulled on my combat boots and my hooded leather jacket, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror.

I looked good. Not like I was trying too hard, but it was casual, which Steve had assured me was the dress code for today.

Just to be on the safe side I secured my Beretta on the small of my back and stuck my knife in my boot.

Tucking my hands in my back pockets I stepped back out into the Living Area, where Steve and Bucky were lounging on the couch, both fully dressed and waiting.

Glancing at the clock I smiled in satisfaction.

_10:54_

_And not even late!_

Both of them looked up at me and smiled, rising to their feet with their strange 1930’s customs –“It’s just polite to stand up when a lady enters a room.” Steve had said. – They stepped around the couch towards me.

“You look gorgeous, Кукла,” Bucky said, I looked down as I felt heat rise up to flood my face.

“You do,” Steve agreed.

“Thank you,” I said. “Are you ready then, for wherever we are going?”

“Yep.” Steve nodded, looking to Bucky who nodded, crouching down to clip on Bear’s vest and leash, scratching the top of his head as he stood back up.

We headed out to the elevator and I took both of their hands.

“Jarvis?” I said, as the doors closed and the elevator started descending.

_“Yes, Agent Lewis?”_ The AI replied.

“If anybody asks where we are. Tell them that we are on a date,” I said brightly, ignoring the twin looks of amusement I got for my excitement, it was fine, I knew they were just as excited just too manly to show it.

_“Of course Agent Lewis. I do hope you have an enjoyable day,”_ Jarvis said.

“Thank you, J.”

“I didn’t think AI’s could hope,” Steve muttered and Bucky shrugged.

“I dunno, I sometimes think with the way Jarvis is coded that he could easily make a real person,” I commented.

Steve groaned.

“Please don’t _ever_ say that in front of Tony,” he said. “I do not need to be dealing with that anytime soon.”

Bucky and I snickered.

“I think Pepper would actually kill him,” Bucky put in and I nodded in agreement.

“Or Rhodey, definitely Natasha. Maybe even Jarvis himself,” I mused as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Just no.”

I smiled as Bucky pulled open the passenger door, holding out the leash free hand to “help” me into the car. I settled into the middle as Steve and Bucky slid in either side of me, Bear sitting between Bucky’s feet.

We drove straight through Brooklyn and my eyes widened in recognition.

“Are we going to Coney Island?” I asked, grinning in excitement.

Steve grinned but didn’t say anything. _That’s a yes._

“I’ve never been to Coney Island,” I said. Bucky gave me a weird look but didn’t comment as Steve pulled up to Park.

We bought tickets and ambled round the pack, chatting happily, until something caught Steve’s eye and he caught my hand, dragging me towards the Cyclone, I caught Bucky’s hand, pulling him with us.

He caught sight of where we were heading and groaned.

“No,” he said as we stopped near the end of the line. “Nope, no. I am not going on that thing again.”

Steve laughed. “Aw, c’mon Buck!”

Bucky shook his head. “Nope, not happening Rogers! But by all means go ahead, I am not going to be the one to throw up,” he said, letting go of my hand. “Bear and I will be over there.” He pointed towards a wall opposite the ride, he winked at me before heading over to sit pointedly on the wall.

Steve chuckled before tugging me towards the ride.

The joys of being on a date with Captain America was queue skipping, with our priority tickets we skipped straight to the front of an hour long line.

My stomach dropped at the first dip and I grinned in delight as adrenaline flooded through my system.

Next to me, I heard Steve laugh through the speed.

The ride seemed much quicker than two minutes as it pulled to a stop.

Steve and I both hopped down, I laughed, clutching his hand as my balance twisted.

Steve laughed, dragging me out through the gate, towards Bucky, who was sitting on the wall, he took one look at us and laughed.

“You’re both crazy,” he said, sliding to his feet, Bear hopping up next him, sniffing Steve and me curiously.

I laughed giddily, practically bouncing in front of him. “Life’s better that way.”

.

We drifted between a few more rides before we decided to call it a day when more people started to recognise us and a group of children ended up surrounding us.

We signed their stuff and took photos with them before we almost ran back to the car.

Steve drove back through Brooklyn to Eve’s Diner, we stepped inside, letting the warmth rush over me, smiling slightly as Eve rushed from behind the counter, stopping short in front of Bucky.

“Wow,” she breathed, then shook her head, looking between the two of them. “Am I the only who ages now?”

Steve chuckled, turning to Bucky.

“Buck, I don’t know if you remember this is –”

“Evelyn,” Bucky said, his voice barely above a whisper. He smiled slightly. “Evelyn Morrison, Becks’ best friend.”

He reached out and Eve met him halfway, reaching up to hug him.

They pulled away and she cupped his cheek for a minute, her eyes wide and teary.

She took her hand away and took a deep breath, looking between us with a watery smile.

“Go sit down,” she said. “I’ll be right over.”

We moved over to the circular table in the corner, I took one for the team and sat with my back to the rest of the diner.

Eve, give her every award ever, made sure not to come up behind any of us as she poured us _the_ largest mugs of coffee she had.

We had the usual burgers and fries, I had only one burger and a _normal_ portion of fries whereas Steve and Bucky had two double burgles and three portions of fries.

“Is anyone gonna care if I order a milkshake _and_ another coffee?” I asked, rolling a fry between my forefinger and thumb curiously.

Bucky raised an eyebrow questioningly as Steve snorted slightly.

“Coffee and milkshake is not the dirtiest combination of things I’ve seen you put in your mouth,” Steve said.

Both Bucky and I paused, I turned to him in disbelief, watching as his coffee cup was frozen halfway to his mouth, a pink tinge to his cheeks.

“That came across wrong,” he groaned.

I bit the end off of my fry, raising an eyebrow.

“How exactly was that _supposed_ to come across?” I asked, not even bothering to hide my smirk. Steve opened and closed his mouth several times before giving up and shaking his head, calling over Eve and ordering me a strawberry milkshake.

I smiled triumphantly, snatching another fry off my plate, dunking it in the top of my milkshake.

“Okay, no,” Steve said with a grimace. “I was wrong. _That_ is the weirdest thing I have ever seen you put in your mouth.”

“Don’t knock it til you try it,” I said. Bucky raised an eyebrow almost challengingly with a mischievous look in his eye, he leant forward, catching my hand, he guided it over to my milkshake, dunking it in the top of the shake, raising it up to his lips. I bit my lip as his lips brushed over the tips of my fingers before dropping my hand which I drew quickly back into my lap, heat rising to my cheeks.

Bucky hummed in approval, his tongue darting out, licking a speck of milkshake off of his lip.

Steve nudged my leg under the table, my elbow jerked off the table, looking up at him.

“Drool,” he said, gesturing to the corner of his mouth with an amused smirk.

I rolled my eyes, swatting at his arm as I ducked my head, turning pointedly back to my fries, ignoring Bucky and Steve’s chuckles.

After dinner we drove back to the tower in content silence, I leant my head against Bucky’s shoulder in the car, my hand in Steve’s resting on his thigh.

He parked in the garage and we took the elevator up to our apartment.

“At this point who kisses who at whose door?” I asked, stepping out of the elevator.

“Don’t be so old-fashioned,” Steve said. I laughed as Bucky snickered.

“I’m sorry,” I said through my laughter. “Did Captain America just tell me to not be so old fashioned?” I looked to Bucky.

“I believe he did, Кукла,” he said with a smirk.

“Fine,” Steve sighed. “I will be old fashioned and say it’s too forward to kiss anybody on a first date if that would make you feel better.”

I scoffed. “Fuck no,” I said, reaching up towards Bucky. Bucky grinned, ducking his head down, his lips meeting mine roughly. I whimpered into his mouth as his metal hand came to grip my hair, the other on my waist pulling me closer.

One of my arms snaked around his neck, the other gripped the front of his shirt.

Needing air I pulled back, dropping down on my heels with a heavy breath with a giddy laugh.

I looked over at Steve who was leaning against the wall with a smirk.

“That modern enough for you?” I asked with a teasing smile.

Steve hummed thoughtfully, pushing himself off the wall he stood next to us.

“I don’t know,” he hummed. “I was thinking more…” He trailed off, cupping Bucky’s cheek. I bit my lip as Bucky’s hand tightened in my hair as Steve’s lips met his.

Bucky’s other hand went up to cup the back of Steve’s neck, they moulded together perfectly, even after seven decades, Steve’s lips pressed against Bucky’s urgently and Bucky returned it with equal passion. It was really, _really_ hot.

A small noise escaped the back of my throat and they pulled away, both looking slightly dazed, with giddy, childish grins on their faces.

Steve caught my hand, pulling me against his chest, his lips brushing over my mine in a much calmer jesture.

“This.” He wrapped an arm around each of us. “This is much better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM TERRIBLE AT WRITING ROMANCE AND FLIRTING! LIKE HOW??  
>  **[Darcy's Outfit](https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/25051341659759352/)**


	30. Better Than Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Communication and patience is your new best friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late, again, I'm sorry. I'm really trying to get on top of all of my writing, and I'm failing, so just bare with me.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** None.

I smiled to myself as I stepped into Common Area the next morning, Steve and Bucky had taken Bear for a run with Sam and Nat and because my legs felt crappy from walking so much yesterday I had decided to stay behind.

I flopped into the Conversation Pit, chewing happily on my Pop Tart as Malia crawled into my lap, reaching towards it. I broke off the corner, handing it over to her.

Chelsea slid across the couch towards me as Clint dropped next to me on the other side.

“So,” Chelsea prompted, my head fell back against the couch with an exaggerated groan. “Nu uh, don’t give me that, Jarvis told us you _three_ all went on a date yesterday. You were gone for the _entire_ day.”

“Can I just say,” Clint cut it. “It’s about damn time. The three of you together I mean.”

“You’re one to talk,” I scoffed. “How're things with Sam going?”

“Pretty well actually if last night says anything.” He grinned shamelessly and I made gagging noise as Chelsea pulled a face.

“Icky?” Malia asked through a mouthful of poptart, apparently recognising the noise.

“Yes,” I said. “Your Uncle Clint is being icky.”

“Uncle Clint is icky?”

I laughed, kissing the top of her head. “Smart kid.”

“Okay,” Chelsea cut in. Wiping the poptart from around Malia’s mouth with a napkin, ignoring Clint’s pout. “We have gotten off topic. So, you went on a date, the three of you?”

“Yeah, we’re trying that. An actual healthy polyamorous relationship,” I said with a slight disbelieving smile. “We talked about it the night before last and they took me out yesterday. We went to Coney Island and got dinner at a small diner in Brooklyn. It was really nice, they were amazing.”

I bit my lip, failing to hide my grin.

“What happened when you got back?” Clint asked, insinuation clear in his voice. “Jarvis said you got back at seven but you were all unavailable.”

“Nothing like _that,”_ I said, shaking my head. “Nobody wants that right now, nobody is _ready_ for that at the minute. But we kissed, again.”

“We?” Chelsea prompted.

“Me and Bucky, Bucky and Steve, Steve and I,” I said. “That was it though. We’re taking it slow.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Clint commented, I nodded in agreement.

“It’s a little weird though,” I admitted, playing with Malia’s hands. “I mean, Steve knows Bucky. I know Steve but Bucky and I… It’s different, it’s that new kinda awkward part of the relationship. There’s no… history.”

Chelsea nudged me with a grin. “Then make some.” 

“What like… date him separately?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Why not? There’s no set way of doing this. As long as you’re all honest with each other. Nothing says that all of your dates have to be the three of you. Besides,” she said. “You and Bucky have some catching up to do.”

I hummed thoughtfully. It wasn’t a bad idea.

“Just remember,” Clint said. “Communication and patience is your new best friend.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re all so great at that,” I laughed slightly.

“For this,” Chelsea said. “You have to be.”

The annoying thing is though; they were right.

.

Jarvis announced that Steve and Bucky were back so I headed back down to our apartment.

Pushing open the front door I hesitated, a soft smile on my lips.

Steve and Bucky were stood together in the kitchen, their arms around each other, Bucky’s forehead resting on Steve’s shoulder as Steve’s fingers combed through his hair, murmuring something, too quiet for me to hear.

At their feet Bear sat, his chin resting on Bucky’s leg.

I shut the door softly and the three of them looked round at me in unison, guilt flashed across Bucky’s face momentarily before they smiled and Steve beckoned me closer.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, letting them both wrap an arm around me so that we were standing in a little triangle, I felt whatever tension that was left in my fade away.

“’S just been a crazy couple of days, Кукла,” Bucky said with a small smile.

“Tell me about it,” I murmured. “Are we good though?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky said.

“Better than good.” Steve smiled.

“Good.” I nodded. “So, I was thinking—” I looked up at Bucky. “That you and I have a little bit of catching up to do. So, d’ya wanna go out with me? Just us? That way we can get through the awkward new relationship stage much faster.”

Bucky glanced up at Steve questioningly. “You’re okay with this, Punk?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s a great idea.” Bucky turned back to me, his thumb ghosting over my cheek bone.

“Then I’d love to, Кукла.”

I grinned brightly before stepping back. “Great,” I said. “Now you two need to go and shower because you both stink.”

They both laughed, rolling their eyes in unison.

“Charming Darce,” Steve scoffed.

“Mmm hmm,” I hummed. “I do try. Now go.” I shooed them away.

Bucky gave a mock salute. “Ma’am, yes ma’am.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes as I turned towards the coffee pot.

_I could definitely get used to this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have almost finished this instalment, which is a plus, and because I don't write things in order I've almost finished the AoU part, it's very different to the movie, fair warning.


	31. Dark Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C’mon,” I said, linking my arm with his metal one, tugging him to stand. My eyes flickered down to Bear who whined, nuzzling at Bucky’s flesh hand. “I need to introduce you to the badassery of Princess Leia Organa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, but here it is...  
> Fair warning, I wrote this right after Carrie Fisher died so, it's a very Star Wars-y chapter.  
>  **Chapter Warnings:** None.

The Assemble alarm roused me from my sleep and I groaned, burying my face in the pillows for a moment before pulling myself up to see Steve already buckling his suit.

“Jarvis, sit-rep?” I asked, pushing my glasses up my nose and reaching for my tablet.

 _“It appears to be a report of Loki’s Sceptre. It has appeared in a Hydra file that a virus of Agent Skye’s has infiltrated,”_ Jarvis said.

“Where is it?” I asked, pushing myself out of bed, pulling my hair up into a messy ponytail.

_“It’s last known location appears to be in a base in France.”_

“Fuel the jet,” Steve ordered, picking up his shield, stepping into the Living Area, I followed behind him not all that surprised when Bucky pressed a cup of coffee into my hands, looking at Steve questioningly.

“An hour there, allow for a couple of hours. You should be back within six hours,” I said, kissing Bucky’s cheek in thanks, sipping at the coffee. “It just looks like a standard Hydra base. Nothing too severe.”

Steve nodded. “Alright. Jarvis, wheels up in two.” He looked back to Bucky and I. “See you in a few hours.” He leant down to kiss me softly. He pulled away and I smiled.

“Go get ‘em Soldier.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, turning to Bucky. My smile softened, I don’t think I will ever get tired of watching the two of them kiss. There was something so satisfying about it. They pulled away and both of them smiled.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Punk,” Bucky said.

Steve opened his mouth to reply then hesitated. “Jerk. I guess I’m the one taking all the stupid with me this time, huh?”

“There’s a surprise,” Bucky laughed slightly. Pushing Steve away. “Now go, before Natasha comes down here.”

Steve stumbled slightly, swiping up his shield he gave us both a mock salute before disappearing out the door.

I leant against the counter with a sigh. Worrying at my lip nervously.

Bucky rested a hand between my shoulder blades, turning me into his chest.

“He’ll be fine,” he murmured.

“I know,” I said. “He’s too stubborn to die.”

I felt Bucky laugh slightly, his lips pressed against the top of my head for a moment before Bear whined in protest.

We pulled away and looked down to see him looking pointedly at his food bowl.

Bucky laughed.

“Sorry Buddy,” he said, reaching down to fill his bowl. Bear’s tail flapped against the floor, with Bucky’s okay he dove forwards into his breakfast.

Bucky rolled his eyes and I laughed, turning to pull the fridge open pulling out some eggs and bacon.

We made and ate breakfast and I checked the status of the team's mission, I didn’t need to be at a monitor, it really didn’t seem that big of a deal. Had Loki’s Sceptre not been there I’m pretty sure they would have sent a S.H.I.E.L.D. team, but I knew the team, Clint especially, wouldn’t let it fall into S.H.I.E.L.D’s hands; again.

The two of us cleared up the breakfast things, before disappearing to get ready for the day.

I dressed in a pair of high-waist, black jeans and a black long sleeved shirt with splits at the elbows, not that you could see them through my heavy leather jacket, the hood pulled up over slightly tangled hair. I tried to brush it but my elbows and shoulders protested too much, so I gave up.

Stepping out of the bedroom, Bucky was tussling on the floor with Bear.

“Jarvis?”

_“I have taken photographs, Agent Lewis.”_

Both Bear and Bucky looked up, Bucky gave a bright grin and rolled his eyes, a hint of tension across his shoulders that wouldn’t relax until Steve was home.

“Central Park?” He asked, strapping Bear’s vest into place, attaching his leash.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m not jogging though. My legs won’t make it back.”

Bucky looked momentarily worried before pushing himself to his feet as if I hadn’t said anything.

He held out his arm to me. “Milady?”

I rolled my eyes, stepping forwards, linking my arm with his.

“Only because you’re cute Barnes,” I said, laughing slightly as he scrunched up his face adorably at the word, his nose scrunched up and his hair, which now fell just past his shoulders, dropped into his face.

“I was once the most feared assassins in the world,” he said. “Cute is not a word people use to describe me.”

“You better get used to it.” I brushed his hair behind his ear, reaching up to kiss his jaw. “Because you are pretty cute.”

.

We walked contently through the New York commuters to Central Park, getting a lot of looks but nobody approached us, though several people tried to “discreetly” take pictures, they failed.

“How did you end up entwined in all of this crap?” He asked as we sat on the edge of the fountain.

“I never told you?” I said in slight surprise. He shook his head. “Huh. You’ve been here months, why haven't I told you that yet.

“Well, after they took my leg when I was sixteen my mom got into a lot of debt, having a disabled child isn’t exactly cheap. But somehow she was dealing with it all until she got sick, Cancer. She assured Jake and I that she had insurance and that all of her treatments were covered and we had no reason to doubt her.

“Just after Jake got deployed my mom got worse, she got put in hospital permanently, I was living at home on my own until I got the eviction notice,” I explained briefly. “I spent a few months on the streets until Jake got home from Afghanistan and wondered why he hadn’t been able to get a hold of either of us. He saw Mom and the Doctors told him how behind Mom’s bills were, how I’d been missing appointments and when I’d been to see mom I’d looked pretty shitty.

“He and Mike they walked the streets for hours looking for me. I have no idea how they found me but they did, and they took me home. Because I was still under eighteen Jake became my legal guardian, he got me back on my feet; literally. I got early acceptance into Culver.”

“Is that where you met Jane?” He asked.

“Sort of,” I replied. “I met Betty there, she was a tutor of mine. I was six credits short of my PhD and so I took an internship, that’s when I met Jane. Fuck knows how I got it, I wasn’t in the slightest bit qualified but three weeks after our interview, I was on a plane to New Mexico. Her work was pretty cool, but it got beyond interesting when Thor arrived with S.H.I.E.L.D. not far behind and well… the rest is history; literally.”

Bucky gave a low whistle.

“Don’t.” I nudged him. “It’s really not that interesting. There are more important things to find interesting.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Like…” I looked around for inspiration, across the park two kids had toy lightsabers and were initiating in an “epic” fight. “Star Wars,” I said, Bucky looked down at me in confusion. “There’s a new movie coming out in December, it’s going to be amazing. But you _need_ to watch Star Wars.”

He hummed doubtfully and I rolled my eyes in response.

Bucky’s eyes scanned the plaza, shifting uncomfortably as people started to take notice of us.

“C’mon,” I said, linking my arm with his metal one, tugging him to stand. My eyes flickered down to Bear who whined, nuzzling at Bucky’s flesh hand. “I need to introduce you to the badassery of Princess Leia Organa.”

“Who?”

I grinned brightly. “You’ll see.”

.

Once back at the tower we went straight up to the Common Area. I dropped into the conversation pit with an appreciative groan.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, sitting next to me with a look of concern.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’ve just overdone it a bit recently ‘s all.”

“If you’re sure," he said. I smiled and nodded in thanks.

“Jarvis, queue up the Star Wars movies please, starting at episode four,” I said.

_“Certainly.”_

“Episode four? Why not start at episode one?” Bucky asked as the screen rolled down.

“You’ll see.” I smirked as the lights dimmed and the music blared.

.

The credits on episode four rolled and episode five automatically came up but paused abruptly at the opening titles.

“Jarvis?” I raised my head from Bucky’s chest.

 _“My apologies, Agent Lewis. Sir has set up a protocol that states if anyone watches episode five for the first time then he has to be present,”_ Jarvis said.

“Seriously?” I dropped back down in exasperation. _Tony and his bloody dramatics._

“What’s so special about episode five?” Bucky asked.

“Spoilers.” I winked.

Bucky’s face scrunched up in confusion. “I feel like you just quoted something, but I have no idea what,” he said.

“Doctor Who,” I said. “You should add it to your list.”

“A list? Like Stevie’s? I don’t have one,” he said.

“Huh.” I frowned. “I thought you would have one by now. Hold on–” I leant forwards, pulling open the drawer in the coffee table, pulling out a new notebook and a pen. Flicking it open I started a list:

 _Star Wars_  
Star Trek  
Doctor Who (1963 & 2005)  
Harry Potter (Books THEN movies)

“-Here.” I handed it over to him. “Anything you hear or see that you don’t understand, just write it down so you can look it up later.”

Bucky smiled slightly, taking the notebook, looking down at it with a slight smile. “Thanks.”

I smiled, turning back to the screen with a huff.

“What’s the team’s eta, J?” I asked.

 _“The mission was completed faster than Captain Rogers predicted. They are clearing up and Sir says they will return home within the hour.”_ There was an unusual, almost regretful, tone to his voice.

Bucky tensed under me and I sat up sharply.

“Jarvis? Give me a sit-rep?” I demanded.

 _“The mission was unsuccessful. The Sceptre was not at the base,”_ he said. _“The base has been taken by S.H.I.E.L.D. none of the team was harmed.”_

“That’s one thing, I suppose,” I murmured, settling back down. “Tell them we’re watching Star Wars when they get back.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Bucky asked.

I pushed myself up to his level, my eyes flickering down to his lips and back up _,_ watching in satisfaction as his eyes darkened.

“Well, I’m sure we could find _something_ to pass the time,” I said, biting my lip suggestively.

Bucky hummed, sliding his metal hand down from the back of the couch, coming to rest on my waist firmly.

He ducked his head forwards, his breath brushing over my lips. “I’m sure.”

.

 _“The quinjet is entering New York airspace,”_ Jarvis announced.

I pulled away from Bucky with a gasp, looking up at him with a giddy grin.

“Did we just-” Bucky laughed.

“For an hour,” I giggled, dropping my head against his shoulder. “Gods, we’re like a couple of teenagers.”

“It’s not completely terrible," he said, dropping a kiss to the crown of my head, his thumb ghosting patterns behind my ear over my tattoo.

“Not until Sam, Tony or Clint find out. They would never let us hear the end of it if they found out that we’d spent an hour making out on the couch like a couple of sixteen-year-olds,” I said.

“It’d be worth it though,” Bucky said, tilting my chin up, pressing a chaste kiss on my lips.

“Definitely.” I smiled. Looking towards the windows as the shadow of the quinjet passed across the room. I rose to my feet and we moved over to landing pad door just as the jet set down.

The team came down the ramp looking slightly downtrodden but otherwise unharmed.

Thor reached the door first, storming past me and I stared at him, my eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. The room practically crackled with his anger, the skies darkening with the threat of a storm.

“Nice to see you too, Thor,” I said.

Thor paused half way across the room, turning back to me with an apologetic look.

“Forgive me, Lady Darcy. I just do not understand how Loki’s—” Thor faltered. “—how the Sceptre came to be in the hands of these people.” HE looked to Clint and Natasha expectantly.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. had the Sceptre after New York. But—” Clint broke off with a frustrated wave of his hands. Reminding everyone of just how much the Sceptre being out there still affected him.

“When S.H.I.E.L.D. fell we lost track of it,” Steve said, stepping inside, shield and helmet in hand. “We believe it fell into Hydra’s hands. This was the first time we’ve heard mention of it since last year.”

Thor let out a frustrated breath but didn’t say anything more.

“Jarvis is scanning all networks for any talk of the Sceptre. But there’s nothing we can do in the meantime,” Tony said looking over at Bucky and I. “I heard someone was watching Star Wars.”

“All due respect I am not in the correct mood to watch one of your movies,” Thor said.

“Well, tough.” The elevator doors slid open, letting Jane, Betty, Chelsea, Malia and Pepper step out. “I want to watch Star Wars,” Jane said. “And this morning when you left at a ridiculous hour, you promised to make it up to me. So, watching Star Wars will make it up to me.”

I laughed slightly as Jane stood at her full height, which was still nearly a foot shorter than Thor, not that that she cared as she stood with her hands on her hips, raising a challenging eyebrow at the Prince. Apparently, it didn’t bother Thor either, his lips twitched almost proudly and he bowed slightly.

“Great.” Tony clapped. “That’s settled. Jarvis, load it up.”

_“Certainly, Sir.”_

“This isn’t going to work,” Steve murmured, pressing his lips against my temple, I glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow in question. “Bucky speaks German.

I smiled slightly. “Just humour them.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging my back over to the conversation pit where he settled down between Bucky and I.

I glanced over at Clint and Sam who were muttering gleefully to each other.

I rolled my eyes fondly. “Children.”

.

On screen, Darth Vader and Luke fought across the bridge and I watched in amusement as Sam, Tony and Clint all practically bounced on the edges of their seats.

_“No. I am your father!”_

Everyone’s heads instantly snapped to Bucky expectantly.

The movie paused and Bucky looked around in confusion.

“What?”

“Why aren’t you surprised?” Clint asked, looking like he’d just seen someone kick a puppy.

“Why am I supposed to be surprised?” Bucky looked to Steve and me in worry, with that familiar look that meant he was scared that he had done something wrong.

“Clint is just jealous that he never worked out the Skywalker heritage before it was unveiled,” I assured him.

“Did people not know?” Bucky asked, resting his hand on Bear’s head.

“Nobody knew before this movie came out,” Tony said with a slight pout.

“But it’s German,” Bucky said as if it were obvious, which, it kinda was. “Darth Vader literally translates to Dark Father.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes, it does. Which is why people are stupid.”

“Are you lot done? Can we finish the movie now?” Nat asked with a raised eyebrow. Either side of her Sam and Clint slumped back against the couch. Tony too dropped back into Pepper’s side with a pout, waving his hand the movie resumed.

Steve chuckled into my hair. “I told you so," he murmured.

I rolled my eyes fondly once again. “Children.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh, I miss Carrie Fisher...


	32. AUTHORS NOTES - NOT A CHAPTER

Hey readers - if there even is anyone still reading this,

So, firstly I am so, so sorry. I can't believe it's been so long since I updated this but life has been so, very crazy recently and it's all just gotten away from me.

But, I've been rereading this series to try and get my focus back and I've decided I'm going to rewrite it because I started this series in 2015 and wow was my writing bad... 

I'm not going to be making any major changes to anything, I'm basically just going to edit and reword it all. Fix some really bad grammar mistakes etc, and I'm going to do it chapter by chapter so I don't have to delete everything and start over. Because even though I cringe when I read parts of it, I am really proud of this series and all of the comments and kudos and bookmarks you've all given me.

So, despite my nearly five-month absence, I am not abandoning this series; just making it better.

Thank you for sticking with me. I will post another update here when it's all done and getting back on track.

Tori ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [ Tumblr ](http://purplepingupenguins.tumblr.com/) and [ Pinterest ](https://www.pinterest.com/ToriTris/life-is-hard/)   
> And let me know what you think?


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